Fragments Of A Diseased Mind
by MaleaBotor
Summary: Insanity abounds as the Hitchhiker's Guide gang engage in a series of totally random adventures. Will Arthur ever get to have tea again? Will Ford ever make sense? Will Zaphod stop hitting on random girls? Will Trillian actually be mentioned? Find out!
1. Arthur's Bad Day

**Arthur's Bad Day**

Arthur woke up. He yawned, looked around, panicked slightly, and then remembered where he was. Yes, the Earth HAD blown up and he WAS on a spaceship in the middle of nowhere. The spaceship was, in fact, the Heart of Gold, and he was on it all alone, due to a number of interesting circumstances it would be best not to explain.

Arthur searched for answers from his recumbent position on the floor, and decided it would be a lot easier if he just stood up. He did so, straightening out his bathrobe, and was immensely pleased to find that he was holding a teabag. This was also due to the number of interesting circumstances that will be left to speculation.

Grinning, Arthur ran to the kitchen where he put a kettle on to boil. Even the annoying whistle of the robotic stove didn't phase his mood. He even began to sing along, which was a mistake, as he was tone-deaf. He placed the teabag in the cup, which he had taken out.

Finally, he removed the kettle from the stove and poured the water into the cup, humming tunelessly as he did so.

With a flash, Ford Prefect appeared in the kitchen. This was due to a second set of interesting circumstances that followed the number of interesting circumstances that were not explained. This second set will not be explained either.

"Hello Ford," said Arthur, blowing gently across the top of the tea.

"Hello Arthur," said Ford, "Aren't you going to ask me how I got here?"

"No."

"It was due to a second set of interesting circumstances," said Ford, ignoring Arthur entirely.

"Really?" said Arthur, "Were they as interesting as the number of interesting set of circumstances that came first?"

"Not quite," said Ford.

"Oh," said Arthur, "Those were definitely some interesting circumstances."

"I'd even go as far to say they were the most interesting circumstances ever."

"They WERE quite interesting," agreed Arthur.

"So," said Ford, "What are you drinking?"

"This? It's a cup of tea." With a wild scream, Ford dashed the cup from Arthur's hands. It smashed on the floor, and was quickly cleaned up by a happy little robot.

"Ggggggh," said Arthur.

"Have you drunk any yet?" Ford asked anxiously. Arthur, speechless, shook his head 'no'.

"Thank STAN," said Ford, "You're alright, then." Arthur suddenly regained his voice.

"All right!?" he screamed, "ALL RIGHT? You just smashed what was going to be the first cup of tea I've had for…for…for a very long time! And I'm NOT very happy about it! At all!" Ford calmly took out his towel from his satchel.

"Twist this. It'll make you feel better." Arthur did so, screaming about all the horrible things he was going to do to Ford although he wasn't certain what they were going to be yet. Eventually, he stopped screaming, and simply whimpered slightly.

"There, there," said Ford politely, patting Arthur on the head, "I had a perfectly good reason."

"Really," said Arthur miserably.

"Yes," said Ford, "Fold the towel and put it behind your head."

"What?"

"Just do it."

"All right, what now?"

"The reason," said Ford, "that I smashed the tea is a very good one. The new President of the Galaxy has just announced that tea is against the law."

There was a minute of silence as Arthur let Ford's statement sink in.

"Ngha…" said Arthur, and crumpled gently to the floor. After a while, he woke up.

"Oh good," he said, "It was just a horrible dream."

"No, it wasn't," said Ford.

"Oh," said Arthur, "I guess I'd better faint, then."

So he did.

**The End**

_I should point out something. Even though I think Douglas Adams is brilliant, I am not trying to write in his style. This is my own style. So, that said, comments about how it's 'not quite like DNA' don't really apply._

_Because I know. That's on purpose._

_Please review!_


	2. Arthur Loses His Soap

Arthur Loses His Soap

One day, Arthur was playing with a bar of soap. He had likely found it in the bathroom. He would never have played with it, except that Zaphod had shut him into a completely white and empty room. The reason, said Zaphod, was that Arthur was REALLY annoying him.

Arthur thought this was rather unfair. All he'd done was walk into the control room and ask Zaphod why he was pouring a glass of orange juice onto the console.

Arthur tried drawing on the wall with the soap. It wasn't very effective. Then he tried to draw on the soap with the wall. This was even less effective.

"Oh, hey," said Ford, walking through the wall.

"How did you do that!?" said Arthur, his eyes bulging.

"I came through the door," said Ford, trying to walk back through the wall. He hit his head, and sat down.

"There are no doors," said Arthur.

"Oh. My mistake." He noticed Arthur's bar of soap.

"Can I have that?"

"Well, not really…"

"Great!" said Ford, taking the bar of soap. Then he ate it.

THE END

_There is no spoon... _

_Sorry, couldn't resist. Um... what can I say? I basically just wrote a story off the first title to come into my mind._

_I know they're acting childish, but give me a break. I'm 15. And fairly immature as you may have guessed._

_So..._

_To be continued..._


	3. Arthur Finds A Clippie Thing

**Arthur Finds a Clippie Thing**

One day Arthur found a clippie thing.

"I just found a clippie thing," said Arthur.

"Arthur just found a clippie thing," said Ford.

"Could one of you expla…" began Zaphod.

"It's no use!" yelled Trillian.

"Oh, okay," said Zaphod, "If you say so, I guess. But I thought…"

"Someone's taken my lipstick!" screeched Trillian, which was what she had been talking about in the first place.

"'It's no use' what?" said Arthur.

"It's perfectly obvious," said Trillian, glaring at Arthur. Arthur whimpered.

"Yeah monkey-boy," said Zaphod, hoping to win points with Trillian.

"I ate your lipstick," said Ford suddenly, "Well, first I used it, then I ate it."

"You're wearing lipstick?" asked Arthur.

"Well, it_is_ purple," Ford pointed out.

"'It's no use' what?" said Zaphod.

"I already asked that and you told me I was stupid," said Arthur.

"You're_really_ annoying me," said Zaphod. Arthur shrugged.

"So, what do you think this clippie thing is for?" said Arthur.

"Everyone forgot about that_minutes_ ago," said Zaphod dramatically.

"You _ate_ my lipstick?" asked Trillian.

"More importantly, why is he wearing it?" said Arthur, but no one listened to him.

"I thought it would taste like grapes. But it didn't."

"Grapes?" said Zaphod, "I've got some grape juice right here." He took a flask out of his Snazzy™ jacket.

"Why do you have a sudden obsession with juice?" said Trillian.

"It's very healthy," Zaphod said defensively. Trillian gave him a look.

"Alright, I put some Bibley's Death Drink in it," said Zaphod, "And some Ole Janx Spirit." He sipped at his flask.

"Oh. Never mind. This is rasp-carrot juice."

"That's my favourite!" said Ford excitedly. He grabbed Zaphod's flask and drained it.

"Hey!" said Zaphod. Then Ford ate the flask.

"That was very plastic-y," said Ford, crunching on the lid, "I'm not eating one of THOSE again."

"That was a cool flask," Zaphod complained.

"Excuse me," said Arthur weakly, "Wasn't the plot supposed to be about my clippie thing?"

"Hey, a clippie thing!" said Ford, grabbing it, "I haven't eaten one of those yet."

"I'm very fond of that," said Arthur.

"You just found it," said Ford.

"I named it Charles," said Arthur.

"Huh," said Ford. He bit into it thoughtfully, then clutched his jaw and spit it out. Arthur snatched it off the floor, wiped it as well as he could on Ford's jacket, and then cuddled it.

"It's made of metal," explained Ford.

"You ate a plastic thermos," said Trillian.

"It's going to be all right, Charles," Arthur said soothingly. Ford looked at Arthur.

"Are you going to eat that bathrobe?"

THE END

_Has Arthur finally snapped from the stresses of space travel?_

_Or is the author simply writing in a rather childish vein?_

_I expect you all don't care._

_If I was you, I wouldn't._

_This is another one of those stories in which I invent the title first, and then write the story to follow it._

_You can generally tell._


	4. Ford Goes On a Diet

Ford Goes On a Diet

"No I don't," said Ford.

Oh.

THE END

_Er, well, I thought because, you know, he was eating everything and…never mind._


	5. Ford Searches For the Hippo of Light

Ford Searches For the Hippo of Light

Arthur ran as fast as he could toward one of the rooms on the ship. Horrible screams echoed over what Arthur called the PA system, although he was sure it was something that was much more devastatingly technological. Arthur never asked how it worked because the last time he had asked Ford about the technology in the ship, he had been given an answer in which the only words he understood were 'the' and 'and'.

The reason for this, although Arthur didn't know, was that Ford didn't know how the ship worked either and had just been making up a bunch of important-sounding words.

Arthur ran. He looked briefly to the side and noticed that Trillian was running with him, a look of worry on her face.

"Aaaagh… OhGod. Nyuuuurgh!" went the PA system.

"Where's it coming from?" Arthur said frantically.

"This room here," said Trillian, trying to open the door, "I traced it." Arthur stopped running and realized belatedly that he had been running for an entirely different reason; he had been trying to get away. Whatever it was that was making whoever it was scream, he didn't want to meet it. The screams sounded genuinely terrified. There was nothing he could do about it now, though. Zaphod had arrived.

"Hey," said Zaphod cheerfully, "Who do you think's in there?"

"Aaaahhh! Help! Gggggh…" went the PA system.

"It's obviously Ford," said Trillian, fiddling with the lock. She took a hairpin out of her hair and quickly replaced it with another one from her pocket. Then she stuck the other one into the lock and jiggled it around.

"Wasn't that rather irrelevant?" said Arthur.

"Shh," said Trillian. Arthur shut his mouth and waited a few seconds before stating the more worrying thing on his mind.

"What do you think's in there with him?" he said, trying to disguise his look of terror and failing badly.

"Who knows?" said Zaphod, "Probably something really dangerous."

Trillian continued to fiddle with the lock, which abruptly made a clicking noise. She turned the knob and opened the door. Arthur lunged backwards, while at the same time, Zaphod bounded forwards into the room.

"Hello Zaphod," said Ford. Arthur walked hesitantly in, after Trillian. Ford was standing in the middle of the room, holding something that looked somewhat like a microphone would look if someone made it devastatingly technological. He was grinning slightly.

"Why were you making noises like you were in pain?" Trillian said, annoyed.

"I thought it would be the easiest way to get you all to come here," said Ford. He gestured towards a girl that they hadn't noticed until Ford gestured towards her.

"This is Andema Butor, my new girlfriend."

"You had an old one?" asked Arthur.

"Yes," said Ford, glaring at him, "Her name was Malea Botor. I shall miss her."

"Why, what happened to her?" said Trillian rather sarcastically.

"She was eaten by a Gvengabeast in Trio on a vacation, I'll have you know."

"When were you on vacation?" said Arthur. Ford glared at him.

"I was just telling Ford that the job he's trying to get is ridiculous, yet hilarious at the same time," said Andema, "It was rather difficult over the wild screaming, but I managed."

"I'm becoming a professional eat-man," said Ford.

"A what?" said Arthur.

"Someone who eats for people who can't," explained Ford, "I've been practicing."

"Hey, that's a real cushy job," said Zaphod, "I think you've got the gut for it."

"Ow," said Andema. Trillian shrugged.

"Well, you did eat my entire makeup set, which, by the way, you are paying for." Andema placed a hand on her face and snickered into it.

"But to get the necessary qualifications," said Ford, "I need to search out the Hippo of Light. Then eat it." Andema found this amusing as well. She was wearing brown pants and a white shirt. She also had a laser gun.

"That's so outdated," said Zaphod.

"I know," said Andema, "But fashionable."

"No, not really," said Zaphod.

"Oh," said Andema, "It matches my eyes and hair?"

"The gun's grey," pointed out Arthur, "and your eyes and hair are brown."

"Details," said Andema lightly.

"Now, what about this Hippo of Light?" Arthur said.

"Forget it," said Ford, "I didn't want to eat it anyways."

THE END

_Well, if that bit with Andema wasn't blatant exposition, I don't know what is._

_I apologise to the Queen of the Amazons for having such a funny name._

_I also take this opportunity to write the disclaimer that I am pretty sure I haven't written yet. None of these characters belong to me. Andema would be offended if I said she belonged to me, but I will say that I introduced her into this fandom. Everyone but Andema belongs to Douglas Adams._

_Who, by the way, lives in my basement along with Johnny Depp, Sirius Black and Vlad from Carpe Jugulum._

_They all play poker for kittens._

_Form your own opinions on this._

_A written response is expected._


	6. Trillian Finds a Blue Pointy Stick in He...

Trillian Finds a Blue Pointy Stick in Her Bedroom and Then Loses It

"Does anyone know where my blue pointy stick went?" asked Trillian over breakfast. She was only eating oatmeal, as bacon and eggs are bad for your cholesterol levels.

"What did it look like?" asked Arthur. Ford gave him a look that clearly meant 'Why must Earth-folk ask such pointless questions?'

"It was long, and pole like," said Trillian, daintily spooning up her breakfast, "and also pointy and blue."

"That was a redundant question," said Andema, chewing on a piece of bacon, "What ARE you eating, Ford?"

"The legs of a Proot gecko."

"Ugh," said Arthur, looking slightly ill, but still managing to finish his slice of toast, "Why do you want to eat those?"

"They're quite good, and besides, I'm becoming an eat-man."

"Weren't you not after not wanting to look for the Hippo of Light?" asked Arthur.

"Past plotlines have no significance to me," said Ford.

"Oh, right," said Arthur, sipping at his tea. Ford's arm shot out, semi-automatically, and knocked Arthur's tea onto the floor.

"Wha…?"

"Tea's illegal," said Ford, not even turning away from his scrambled eggs.

"Well, maybe I'm a rebel," said Arthur, pouring himself another cup.

"Suit yourself," said Ford, his voice muffled slightly by the large amount of egg and Proot gecko legs shoved into it.

"I will," said Arthur, and gulped down his tea. He instantly regretted it, as the tea was rather hot and it sort of burnt his mouth. Also, there was a siren noise, and a blond, adventure-type burst into the room. She had her hair up in a carefully messed bun and was wearing a very shiny badge that said she was part of the Galactic Police.

"All right, miscreant," she drawled, "Step away from the tea and no-one gets hurt."

"I told you," said Ford.

"Excuse me," said Andema politely. The woman's head snapped in her direction.

"What Is It?" she said, carefully enunciating every word.

"What exactly do you expect him to do with the tea?" Ford quietly backed out of the room and was annoyed that nobody noticed. He decided he would watch instead.

"What is he going to do with the TEA? Tea is a very dangerous substance. It tastes good and is therefore, bad. Now come along quietly, before I use this gun on you."

"There IS no gun," said Andema.

"Oh," said the woman, "That, is a very good point." She reached into one of the numerous holsters at her waist and quickly yanked out a gun to hold it dangerously straight out in front.

Ford decided that it would be a good time to take action, as Arthur had one arm curled protectively around the teapot and Trillian seemed to have left the room when nobody was watching. Plus, his girlfriend was leaning back with a look that he recognised as 'This is probably going to be amusing, so I'm not going to help'.

"Quick, Arthur! Make a run for it and I'll make a distraction!" Everyone turned to look at Ford.

"Well," said Arthur, "What's the distraction?"

"That was it," Ford said peevishly. The woman pulled out another gun and held it pointed at Ford.

"You! What's your name?"

"Strath Freeble," said Ford.

"His name is Ford Prefect," Arthur said helpfully, "And I'm Arthur Dent." Ford took of his satchel and whacked Arthur in the head with it.

"Oww…" Arthur said faintly, and collapsed, placing the teapot carefully on the table first. Ford, with a vicious glint in his eye, swung the satchel back onto his shoulder.

"Ford Prefect," said the woman, "You are charged with aiding and abetting. Arthur Dent, you are charged with possession of tea."

"Agh!" said Ford, charging forward with a chair he'd picked up. The woman looked mildly surprised, then shot him in the leg. Ford toppled forward, conveniently landing on the chair. Andema sprang to her feet, both of her laser guns trained on the other woman.

"Agh!" said Ford, for an entirely different reason. He clutched his leg.

"Put down your guns," said Andema, "These may be outdated, but they still work just fine."

"Miscreants," muttered the woman, dropping her guns.

"The other six on your belt too." The woman dropped them.

"Ow," said Ford, "What kind of gun did you shoot me with?"

"Laser," said the woman, glaring at Andema.

"Oh," said Ford, "That makes the melting sensation make sense." Arthur woke up, and noticed that there seemed to be a large number of guns on the ground beside him. With surprising agility, he was on his feet and running out of the way.

Trillian came in from wherever she had been the entire time. She picked up the guns and threw them into the corner.

"Also," said Andema, gesturing with her gun, "I'll need you to take the guns out of your boots, the knives out of your sleeves and the poison darts out of your hair."

"She's carrying all those?" said Arthur.

"She's very violent," said Ford, "She shot me in the leg." Suddenly, a device on the woman's arm beeped.

"Oh no!" she cried.

There was a pause.

"What was that about?" asked Ford.

"My crew left, because they think I'm dead! Now I'm stranded!" Ford thought this was rather convenient, but didn't say so.

"Why would they think you were dead?" Arthur asked.

"That is a very good QUESTION!" said the woman. She went into a corner, sat down, and sulked.

"Is anyone going to fuss over me?" Ford said plaintively.

"I just saved your life," said Andema.

"My leg hurts," said Ford pointedly. Zaphod walked into the room.

"Sorry I'm late for breakfast. It's just that I found a lifty blue pointy stick and I had to throw it out."

THE END

_Yet again, this new woman belongs to herself mostly. I just introduced her._

_Douglas Adams says hi and would like to tell you that he just won two tabbies and a brown, and also that he owns all of the characters you recognize, as well as the Heart of Gold._

_He says I can keep some of the tea._

_My friend Marion pointed out that I should have had Trillian lose her temper rather than the blue pointy stick._

_Thank you Marion. Your requests will be processed in due time. Meanwhile:_

_Share and Enjoy™_


	7. Trillian is Annoyed By Zaphod

Trillian is Annoyed by Zaphod

Zaphod had decided that he liked blonds better than…whatever you call people with black hair.

Trillian had black hair that she pinned up in an interesting fashion unlike her television counterpart who wore altogether too much hairspray.

"Hey baby," said Zaphod to the new girl, "We could go a long way, you and me." The new girl looked up from a small metal object she was polishing. One of Zaphod's heads winked at her. She smiled dangerously and twirled a gun out of a holster.

"Didn't we take away all your weapons?" said Zaphod.

"I don't…TRUST guys…with two heads," she said sporadically, starting to polish the gun.

"Come on, at least tell me your name," Zaphod said, turning on as much of his charm as he thought necessary.

It seemed to work. The woman spun the gun back into the holster and placed the metal object into another.

"My name," she said, "Is Clapeh Writer."

"Hoopy," said Zaphod, "Come with me."

"All right," said Clapeh, one hand placed threateningly on a gun. Zaphod pulled her into a room where Ford had somehow managed to persuade Arthur to play a drinking game.

Andema was standing nearby with an electronic resuscitation machine.

"Hey guys," said Zaphod, "I'd like to introduce you to Clapeh Writer."

"Clapeh Writer? That's a silly name," said Arthur, his voice muffled due to it being plastered against the table.

"Hey Clap," said Ford, "Are you going to drink any more, Arthur, or have I won?"

"You win. You won two minutes ago when a large section of my brain died."

"No fair," said Ford, and finished Arthur's drink for him, "You're horrible at this game."

"I don't know how to use mental powers."

"That's just laziness. You've had ample opportunities to learn how to use them."

"I'm sure if I had them, they've died by now."

"Laziness," said Ford and poured himself another drink.

"Are you sure you won't go out with me?" said Zaphod.

"Yes," Clapeh said mysteriously.

"You are annoying me quite a lot," Trillian said to Zaphod.

THE END

_Perhaps I should take this opportunity to explain how I see the characters, to cut down on confusion. What with the movie coming out, and all._

_Ford, to me, looks like he does in the TV series._

_Trillian looks like she does from the movie except with more interesting hair and some fashionable clothing._

_Zaphod and Arthur can look however you like, except Zaphod has heads like in the TV series._

_I'm glad I've gotten THAT over with._

_Believe me, these things will go on forever. I've already written something like 26 of them._

_The horror!_


	8. The Author Tries to Fit All of Her Exces...

The Author Tries to Fit All of her Excess Ideas Into One Story

Arthur woke up. He didn't seem to remember the previous day, but he contented himself by saying that he probably didn't want to remember it anyway.

Unless it included tea.

Arthur was suddenly very concerned. Had his previous day included tea? This was very important.

He began to get up and noticed Ford.

"Oh hello, Ford, what are you… Oh Dear God."

"Hello Arthur," said Ford amiably.

"Ford," said Arthur with growing horror, "Why are you eating my leg?"

"Well, I can't be an eat-man unless I've sampled everything."

"But… but that's cannibalism!"

"It's not cannibalism if you're different species," Ford pointed out, cutting off another sliver and forking it into his mouth.

"You could have at least cut it off first," said Arthur, feeling sick.

"Yeah… I was going to cook it, but I thought 'Well, that would take energy, and since I'm already here…'" Ford politely began to cut off another piece.

"Agh," said Arthur. He looked sadly at the leg, and then quickly looked away again.

"I was rather attached to that leg," said Arthur, "In more ways than one."

"You're not attached to much of it anymore," said Ford. Arthur flipped through his book of 'What To Do In A Perilous Situation'. There was only one page, so he flipped it back and forth frantically. Finally, he looked at the page. It said: _If there is a situation where you can run, do so. If you can't run, scream. Screaming while you run is also a good idea._ Arthur screamed.

"It's pretty good," said Ford, chewing thoughtfully, "Want to try some?"

"Eat my OWN leg? Eat my…"

"No?" said Ford, "I can't see wh…"

"Arthur?" interrupted Ford, "What's happening?" Arthur felt something being pulled away from his temples. He suddenly found himself in the control room of the Heart of Gold. Ford was holding a couple of electrodes that were plugged into the Infinite Improbability Drive and Clap was leaning back with a disturbed look on her face.

"You fail at persuading me that that thing's safe," she said.

"What?" said Arthur, "What's happening? Why don't I know?"

"Ford said that the Improbability Drive was safe. So he argued you into demonstrating and hooked you up. Then you started screaming, and sat bolt upright and stared." Clap backed a bit further away for good measure.

"So, what did you see?" said Ford, tossing the electrodes to the side.

"You were eating my leg," said Arthur nervously, "Because you said you needed to sample it to be an eat-man."

"Good point," said Ford. Arthur quickly pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged them.

"I've seen that more than once," said Clap, "In my line of work."

"It would probably be very healthy," continued Ford, "Lots of protein." Arthur looked sideways to Clap.

"DO something!" he said frantically.

"With a weapon?" Clap said hopefully.

"Yes!" said Arthur. He glanced at Ford, who was eyeing his leg. And whimpered.

"Ha HA!" said Ferdinand, running into the room and grabbing all their paper napkins.

"Who's that guy?" asked Ford.

"I dunno," said Clap, "But he sure has a funny name."

"Yeah," said Ford.

"What are you talking about!" said Arthur, "You're called Clapeh Writor! And you're named after a car!"

"I'm insulted," said Ferdinand.

Clap ran him through with her lightsaber.

"Not anymore, you aren't!" said Clap triumphantly. Ferdinand sank into the floor, leaving a mess of pixels behind.

"My lightsaber's the colour of whimsy!" shouted Clap.

"Looks more like burnt umber to me," said Ford.

"Or… brown…" Arthur said slowly.

Andema burst into the room.

"You're hanging out with Ford," she said to Clap, "That makes me suspicious."

"I poisoned his drink, and we developed a rapport," said Clap. Andema raised an eyebrow.

"A lot of the time, Ford, I really don't understand you."

"I turned puce and she gave me an antidote," said Ford, "What else could we be but friends?"

"Enemies?" suggested Arthur.

"That comment was uncalled for," said Ford. Zaphod ran into the room.

"Ha HA! Hey, wait, what happened to all our paper napkins?"

"That random computer character tried to take them," said Clap, "But I gave him what for!"

"Really?" said Zaphod, "It looks more like you killed them."

"That too," said Clap. She took her lightsaber out of its holster and turned it on.

"Hey, wow!" said Zaphod, "That laser sword is the colour of whimsy!"

"Brown…" muttered Arthur.

"Anyhow," said Zaphod, "We have to go and get some more paper napkins."

"I've got some right here," said Andema, "From Laura Secord."

"New York Fries," said Clap, handing them to Zaphod.

"And…" said Ford, digging through his satchel, "Manchu Wok!" He placed them triumphantly in Zaphod's outstretched hand. He returned to rummaging through his satchel.

"Ooh, a nifty orange hat! I forgot I had this!" Ford pulled a knitted orange hat with ear flaps and a pompom onto his head, where it clashed horribly with his hair.

"Jayne!" said Andema excitedly.

"What?" said Ford.

"I don't know," said Andema, "I had a sudden urge to say that."

"Aren't you going to give me a napkin, monkey-boy?" said Zaphod.

"It's Arthur," said Arthur.

"Whatever," said Zaphod.

"Ha HA!" he said, and ran out of the room.

"That hat looks awful," said Arthur.

"Actually, I quite like it," said Andema, "I think it's cute. Do you have another one, Ford?"

"No…" said Ford, "But we can clone it!"

"Yes!" said Andema. They both ran out of the room.

"That hat is the colour of vulnerability," said Clap.

"Orange…" said Arthur.

"Tea?" said Clap, holding out a flask.

"Please," said Arthur, taking it and drinking.

"Agh!"

"Your face is the colour of accusation," said Clap.

"Green!" choked Arthur. Clap held out another flask labeled 'Antidote'. With some difficulty, Arthur swallowed it.

"Want to go on a date?" said Clap.

"Nnynyuagh…" said Arthur, slowly returning to his normal colour.

"Great," said Clap.

"I've got ALL the paper napkins!" said Zaphod, running through the room.

THE END

_Hullo to all you new H2G2 fans! Hooray for the movie!_

_Although the making-Arthur-an-active-hero and making-Trillian-the-fugitive-instead-of-Zaphod bits slightly confuses me, and I can never quite see Ford as being black, I'm sure it's not that bad. Except that I'm never going to accept that Arthur/Trillian relationship. Trillian loves Zaphod, damnit!_

_Besides, I bet all the original radio series fans scoff at us book fans. "Ha!" they say, "That's not anyone's personality at all!"_

_Oh well._

_Oh right. Lightsabers belong to George Lucas. They are really hoopy._

_Sorry if I shocked any of you with the, er, eating bit. This is what happens when I talk with my friends for any extended period of time._

_This story is the colour of glee!_


	9. The Story That is Weird…ish…er

The Story That is Weird…ish…er

Whereas some people have skeletons in their closets, Ford's closet was full of balloons.

"Why is your closet full of balloons?" said Arthur, prodding them and wincing at the squeaky noise it made.

"I have my reasons," said Ford, looking shifty.

"My balloon collection!" said Zaphod, running in and popping them all with a pin.

"Oh," said Ford, "Well, now my closet is full of broken balloons."

THE END

_I was bored, so I felt like answering some questions._

_Sennethe: I'm not trying to avoid Douglas Adams style. Also, the reason I'm not saying what happens is because I'm lazy._

_Guardian Demon: He was pouring orange juice on the console because he got into an argument with the computer because it wouldn't let him win the arcade game, so he was trying to short-circuit it with juice, although he couldn't. By the time Arthur came, he had forgotten why he was doing it and didn't want to explain so he put Arthur in the white room with nothing in it._

_Minor God: Of course I'll do a story called Ford Dumps Andema Because She Doesn't Like Penguins. Only problem is: I've written at least 30 of these stories, so your story will be a while in coming._

_New Thing:_

_I am slowly plodding towards writer's block, so I'm doing something nice. After realizing that I put a large amount of random characters in my stories, I thought it would be a good idea to ask any of you if you want to be in a story. If you do, send me a brief description of yourself and something you might like to do to my email address. I can't guarantee putting you all in, but I might. Also, I will NOT accept characters that obviously aren't you(magic powers, crazy animal crosses, ect.) and I will NOT accept any that go into the review section. That said, I think this will be a buncha fun if it works._

_Do you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? That frood really knows where his balloons are._


	10. Zaphod Finds a Pinball Machine

Zaphod Finds a Pinball Machine

A very dramatic scene was taking place on the television. (It was, in fact, not a television, but a high-tech vid-screen, but Arthur liked to keep things simple and Earth-named.)

A bratty kid was standing in a junkyard, while a skinny, druggie kid stood nearby. Or at least, Arthur thought they were kids. It was so hard to tell when the actors were blue.

"You stay away from my sister," said the bratty kid, "Or I'll resurrect your hamster!" He held a small rodent in his left hand.

"But my hamster's still alive!"

"I'll be the judge of that!"

The bratty kid drew a small circle, put the hamster in it, and began to dance around it, chanting.

"Nooooooooo!" screamed the skinny kid, and started to cry.

"Blatant Butterfly Effect rip-off," said Ford, sitting down and watching.

"What?" said Arthur.

On the screen, the skinny kid was trying to convince his mousy friend to scuff the sacred circle and free his hamster from being brought back to life.

"Unlike you, I stay up to date on Earth films," said Ford, pulling a bag of popcorn out of his satchel.

"Didn't the Earth blow up?" said Arthur, "Twice?"

Ford ignored him.

"You scuff that circle," said the bratty kid, "And I'll say some very rude things in the general presence of your mother."

"You wouldn't!" gasped the mousy child.

"You're right," said Bratty, "But I'd threaten to do it!" Mousy burst into tears.

"I can't do it, Nave, I'm sorry," he said to Skinny, backing away.

Zaphod walked in and shut off the television.

"I was watching that," protested Arthur.

"I was cleaning out the attic," said Zaphod, "And I found a cool pinball machine."

"Great!" said Ford. He put the bag of popcorn back into his satchel. "Come on, Arthur."

"Well, I was going to finish watching that program," Arthur argued feebly, then decided it wasn't worth it, and stood up and followed Ford. Zaphod pulled a rope in the ceiling and a bunch of stairs came down.

"Why'd they put an attic in a spaceship?" said Arthur, staring at the neat set of white stairs.

"Storage space," said Ford, taking the steps three at a time, and disappearing into the hole in the ceiling. Arthur, still wondering how this was possible, followed after Ford once more. Reaching the top, he gasped.

The interior of the attic wasn't white, like the rest of the ship. In fact, it was anything but.

The floor was composed of dusty wooden boards, as were the walls and ceiling. The floor was covered in old lamps, chests, and mysterious cardboard boxes sealed with yellowing tape. There were also two windows on opposite walls. Arthur pushed his way past a dressmaker's dummy to look out of the first one. It inexplicably looked out onto a view of a backyard with trees, grass, and a sandbox. Rushing to the other one, he saw a neighbourhood street with trees lining the road, and a little boy pedaling his tricycle down the sidewalk. It was apparently a beautiful sunny day.

"Ford!" hissed Arthur, "Come here!" Ford walked over, holding a battered teddy bear, and looked out the window.

"Tranquil," said Ford. He looked at the bear. "I never had a teddy bear," he said sadly.

"Are you going to look at the pinball machine or what?" said Zaphod impatiently.

"Right," said Ford grimly, clamping the bear firmly under one arm. He walked up to the machine.

"Here," said Zaphod, handing him a coin, "The key was in the coin box-thing, so I raided it." Ford inserted the coin into the slot that had an arrow pointing to it that said 'Please insert your coin here'. Nothing happened.

"Not there," said Zaphod, taking the coin out of the coin box and handing it back to Ford, "THERE!" He pointed to a slot that said 'Do NOT put anything in this slot. Not even a frit. This is one slot that nothing should ever go into'.

"It's so simple, it's obvious!" said Ford, and put the coin into the new slot. The machine rattled to life.

"A Space Journey!" flashed the words across the screen at the back, "Launch Your Ball!"

Ford pulled back the spring.

Arthur, meanwhile, had his face pressed against the window. He watched as a car drove by, and two girls on the lawn next door started a game of catch.

"Triple Space Combo," read the words.

"Yeah!" said Ford, pressing the flippers madly.

"Excuse me," said Arthur, "How do I open this window?"

"Smash it," said Ford, leaning forward across the machine, "Shit!"

"What was that?" said Zaphod.

"An Earth swearword," said Ford.

"Ball Two," said the glowing words.

"I can't smash the window," said Arthur, "The fines will be enormous!"

"Don't forget to credit Penny," said Ford sternly.

"Who's Penny?" said Arthur.

"For shame," said Ford, and began to press madly at the flippers.

"I can win the game!" shouted Justin Hobbylock. Then he left.

"Have you noticed there seem to be a large amount of random people here lately?" said Arthur.

"Triple Space Combo!" said Ford excitedly, "But with fries!"

"Shit," said Zaphod thoughtfully, "Shit shit shit. That's a nice word those Earth-people have got there."

"**I'm** an Earth-person," said Arthur, trying to find something large and heavy in the junk.

"Shit," said Zaphod rudely.

"You can't really use it like that," said Ford, performing a rather tricky manoeuvre.

"Hyper Space," read the words, "Black Hole, Twist Twist Twist, You Do The Hokey-Pokey And You Turn Yourself Around, Fish Flight, Creamed Fish, Fight Fight Fight."

"Whoa!" said Zaphod, "Those were some pretty lifty moves!"

"Yeah, they were really great," said Ford, knowing the proper way to deal with Zaphod.

"Argh!" said Arthur, and charged at the window with a toaster he'd found. It bounced off, and caught him on the side of the head.

"Nggah!" said Arthur, and collapsed.

"Cheese Whiz™," said the words, "Bunk Bed, Star, Starry, Moon, Cow, Planet Planet Planet Planet Planet Planet…" Zaphod hit the side.

"…TILT, Graphite, Rock, Where Have All The Flowers Gone?" Arthur clambered to his feet and looked out the window. A small crowd of people had gathered, and was looking up at the window—and Arthur. Arthur ducked down. Then, he cautiously poked his head up again. A girl winked at him.

"Ford," he said slowly, "Does this window exist?"

"That's a very good question," said Ford, "A veeeeery good question…" He stroked his chin for effect, and lost his ball.

"&!&$$$#!&&!" swore Ford. Arthur passed out. Zaphod removed his hands from where they were clutching his heads.

"Ball Three," said the small words, running somewhat nervously across the screen.

"That was some intense symbol swearing," said Zaphod, "You gave me headaches." He looked over his shoulder with one head.

"Oh, and you knocked out Earth-man too."

Ford launched his final ball.

As there isn't any reason to start describing what was actually happening in the game **now**, after it hasn't been done for the entire story, the next part of Ford's game will be described by the words running across the screen.

"Jelly, Ice Cream, Dickens Slap, Wishbone Wishbone Make A Wish, If You Wish Upon A Pineapple You'll Get A Very Good Pina Colada, Swiss Cheese, Matter Is Full Of Holes, Soft As A Baby's, Bottom Line, Money Money Money Something Something I Forget The Words."

Arthur woke up groggily. Remembering the previous events, he looked out the window.

Everyone had left. He battered his hands against the window, then gave up, and went to watch Ford.

"So," he said, "What's happening?"

"In order to win," said Ford, "I have to lose this ball. But it's my last one."

"You have to lose to win," said Zaphod, "The irony!"

"No, not really," said Ford, "With the films that are coming out, it's not unexpected anymore. For instance, at the end of the vid Arthur was watching, Nave saves everyone by jumping off a building in the past and dying. Then the fabric of space and time unravels."

"That's not a very good moral," said Arthur.

"Yeah, but there were some great special effects," said Ford, "All right. Here goes." He stepped back dramatically from the machine.

"Aha Ha Ha," read the words, "You Lose!" Ford held an umbrella threateningly over it.

"Just Messing, You Win, Jackpot, Money, Prestige, King! High Score."

Ford entered his name into the high score list.

"Now let's see how you match up to me!" said Zaphod.

"1st Place," read the words, "Ford! 235,889,996,521,533,742! 2nd Place, Zaphod! 2."

"The machine obviously wasn't designed with my brilliant skills in mind," explained Zaphod.

"Obviously," said Arthur sarcastically.

"No, it's not really obvious," said Ford, "Zaphod's bad at arcade games."

"I resent that," said Zaphod.

"That's what I was saying," said Arthur, ignoring Zaphod, which annoyed him quite a lot.

"No, you agreed with Zaphod," said Ford, frowning. Suddenly, he grinned.

"Ohhh. Sarcasm! You were using sarcasm!"

"Yes…" said Arthur, slightly troubled by Ford's mad grin.

"Right!" said Ford triumphantly, putting the umbrella away in his satchel.

"It's like Mary Poppins' carpet bag," said Arthur. He'd quite liked that book when he was a child.

"No it's not," said Ford, looking in his satchel, "What's THIS doing in here?" Hand over hand, he pulled a lamp out, and put it beside him on the floor.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. It was a weird day.

"I think I'll leave now," he said, leaving.

"And I'm sure I never put this in here," said Ford, taking out a bowling ball, "Or this. Or this." He pulled out a vacuum cleaner and a music stand.

"Hoopy!" said Zaphod, taking out a bottle of Bibley's Death Drink and a packet of Granter's Joobnuts. There was a picture of a grinning Zaphod on the front of the Joobnuts, and a speech bubble that said 'Granter's Joobnuts. The best nut for when you're on the run from the law.'

"Or this," said Ford, taking out a grand piano.

THE END

_For a short story, that was really long._

_All characters and the Heart of Gold belong to Douglas Adams, except; apparently my friend Hilary has Ford and Zaphod in her basement._

_Silly Hilary._

_I know she doesn't, because Douglas Adams is in my storage room, and he told me they weren't._

_The Butterfly Effect belongs to whoever made that movie. Man, that movie is so great. I don't care what anyone says. I cry at the end every time with that Oasis song._

_Mary Poppins belongs to P.L. Travers, or whoever's still alive in her family, or even possibly Disney. Really, no idea._

_So…who's still reading this?_

_Or, better question, why?_

_I'm just going to ramble, and you know it._

_Haven't you got something better to do with your time?_

_Like reading blogs?_

_Ha ha, just kidding…_

_Anyhow, I got FallenAngel's application thingy. You'll see yourself in maybe the 34th story. I think that's how many I'm up to by now. Still open for others._

_Anyone want some complimentary beans?_


	11. Everyone Gets a Little Christian

Everyone Gets a Little Christian

"I think we should put more religion into our stories," said Arthur.

"What, more than there is already?" said Ford.

"Yes," said Arthur.

"I think we should all get a little Christian," said Trillian.

"Good idea!" said Zaphod.

Half an hour later, they all walked out of the shop.

"Yea, and God shall smite you down! Mighty and numerous shall be his smitings. And you will burn in Hell!" said the little figure Ford was holding.

"Definitely Irish-Catholic," said Arthur.

"I think this was a wise economic decision on our part," said Ford.

"If I poke him, he quotes The Bibble at me!" said Zaphod excitedly.

"Don't you mean the Bible?" said Arthur.

"What's that?" said Zaphod.

Trillian was trying to explain.

"No, what I really meant was…"

THE END

_Sorry if that offended anybody._

_Although, I am a quarter Irish-Catholic, so that should count for something._

_Er…I'm also agnostic though, so maybe that cancels out._

_Dude, I love the word smite. I want to use it all the time._

_How do you smite anyways?_

_With, like, a big zebra that you thwack down on somebody's head?_

_I'm totally going to go around with a stuffie zebra and whack people on the head with it and yell, "Thou hast been smote!"_

_Not sure that's proper grammar, though._


	12. Arthur Receives a Death Sentence

Arthur Receives a Death Sentence

"Hey Arthur!" said Ford, bursting into Arthur's room, "There's a letter for you in the mail!"

"What mail?" said Arthur, taking the letter, "How do we get mail in the middle of space?"

"Stop bringing up the plot holes and open it!" said Ford gleefully.

"For that matter," said Arthur, "Everyone's been acting very childish lately. And there are two new girls who act suspiciously like…"

"Open it!" Ford interrupted frantically.

"And where were they anyways in the last story? And…" Ford grabbed the letter from Arthur's hands and opened it.

"Dear Sir," he read, "We regret to inform you that due to your blatant disconsideration of the law, you have been cited for a fatal injection. Please come to the TDC at your earliest convenience. Thank you." Arthur was gaping in horror.

"Well, that was polite," said Ford, "Oh look, I've been summoned as well for 'Obstruction of the Law'."

"Ford," said Arthur quietly, "We're both going to die."

"Hmm," said Ford, "Well, I DID warn you about the tea. You can't say I didn't."

"How are we going to get out of this!" said Arthur wildly.

"Is disconsideration even a word?" mused Ford.

"We can run away," said Arthur hopefully, "Run away very fast to the other end of the galaxy."

"I mean, if I'm going to die," said Ford, "they should at least tell me so using proper grammar."

"So, when do we leave?" said Arthur, having made up his mind about how he was not going to die.

"Oh, we can't," said Ford mildly, "I'll show you." Together, they went to the control room. Arthur stared at the screen. A number of very dangerous looking ships were surrounding the Heart of Gold. A face appeared on another screen.

"Oh, hello," the face said amiably, "I'd hoped to catch you two chaps before lunch." The face staring back of them was the face of a man who obviously enjoyed his own lunches. It was jolly, and overheated.

"What would you say," said Ford, "If I told you that this time was not at our earliest convenience?"

"My dear chaps," said the man, "My dear dear dear chappies! My old eggs! My left socks which have disappeared! My good old frogs!" Arthur fidgeted as he waited for the man to finish his rather long list of obscure terms of endearment.

"My dry lint bubbles," said the man, running out of steam, "My atomized Troge blasters!"

"My almond-flavoured fleece towels," suggested Ford.

"Quite," said the man. He screwed up his face.

"Could you repeat the question, old thing? I seem to have forgotten the question." Arthur had to concentrate very hard on not simply rushing over to the teleport booth and teleporting himself the photon out of there.

"What would you say if I told you that this time was not at our earliest convenience?" said Ford patiently.

"Ah," said the man.

"I would say," he said, losing all jollity and adopting an air of menace, "that you had better **make** this time your earliest convenience."

"I was afraid he'd say something like that," said Arthur.

"Now, now," said the man, "Don't take this the wrong way."

"The wrong way?" Arthur almost-screamed, "You're going to kill us!"

"No, of course I'm not," said the man.

"But you…"

"I have flunkies to do that for me."

"So we'll just pop over, shall we?" said Ford.

"If you would be so kind," said the man, and disappeared from the screen.

"Right-ho," said Ford, and frowned, "Righty-ho." He walked over to the teleport booth.

"Hoopy." He tapped a complex beat on the door, and then sat, cross-legged on the floor.

"What are you doing?" said Arthur.

"I'm coming up with a plan," said Ford, "Shh!" He began to pace, and then stood up and paced some more.

"How did you manage that?" asked Arthur.

"Shh!"

Alek ran in and laughed loudly.

"Heeheeheehehhee!"

"Shh!" said Ford. He shook his fist at Alek.

"Oh. Thanks," said Ford. Alek whispered something to Ford.

"That's brilliant!" said Ford, "Except that I'm not taking over the world." Alek looked sad.

"Cheer up," said Ford, "I'll use the other plan when I'm not about to die." Alek cheered up, and ran away to the kitchen, where he was promptly eaten by a potted plant.

"So," said Ford, "I have a plan."

"Great!" said Arthur.

"But it involves us being on the other main spaceship," said Ford.

"Not quite as great," said Arthur.

"No, it'll work," said Ford. He pulled Arthur into the teleport booth and pressed some buttons.

'Pszht' went the booth as it split them both into atoms and whizzed them through the air.

"Argh!" went Arthur as he was split into atoms and whizzed through the air.

Ford didn't say anything, as every atom of his being was thinking,

"Oh shit, I forgot the guns."

A clear-minded person would, at this moment ask how it is that a bunch of atoms could think anything. To which Ford would answer, "Shh! Don't expose the plot holes!" To which the same clear-minded person would probably ask how a bunch of atoms could say anything, and how a character could have knowledge of their own story. Hearing this, the author would probably have to go have a stiff drink(ice tea) and a lie-down.

There were far too many plot holes floating about. Several of them plastered themselves over the guards standing outside the teleport booth on the other ship.

They were never seen again.

Ford burst out of the teleport booth holding a banana.

"Bam bam bam!" he shouted.

Arthur staggered out of the machine.

"Ford," he croaked, "Never make me teleport **again**."

"No-one's here," said Ford, "I don't have to use Penny's plot." He put away the banana.

"Oh no!" said Arthur, as he was seized from behind.

Ford laughed.

"I've discovered my mental powers," he said, "You can't capture me."

"That's were you're wrong!" said an older woman, walking into the room.

"A little help here?" said Arthur as his hands were cuffed behind his back.

"Ford Prefect, what **are** you doing?" said the woman crossly.

"I was thinking of escaping," said Ford quietly, hanging his head.

"Ford!" said Arthur urgently.

"Don't you use that tone of voice with me, mister," said the woman, shaking her finger at Ford.

"Yes mum," said Ford.

"What are you talking about?" said Arthur, "_She's not your mum!_"

"She could be," said Ford.

"But she's not."

"True."

"Stop talking!" said Mum.

"Yes mum," Arthur found himself saying. Mum sighed.

"The things I have to put up with," she said to no-one in particular, "I slave away, and you repay me by not submitting yourselves willingly to the authorities."

"Sorry mum," said Ford apologetically, "Will it help if I get Arthur to come?"

"It might," said Mum.

"No!" said Arthur, "Ford, don't do it!"

"Listen, Arthur," said Ford reasonably, "You're always worried about dying, right?

"Yes…" said Arthur, wondering where this was going.

"So theoretically, if you die, you won't have to worry about dying anymore."

"Run!" screamed Arthur's brain, "Panic panic panic! Run AWAY!"

"True…" said Arthur faintly. He wasn't sure he liked the way the conversation was going, but it made perfect sense.

"So why don't you just do what these people say, and then we can all get what we want. You won't have to worry any more. That IS what you want, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," said Arthur, feeling horribly put upon, although he was unsure why.

"There you go," said Ford, "Come on Arthur."

"All…all right," said Arthur, walking meekly behind Mum and Ford.

"I could have been a successful artist if I hadn't decided to look after you," said Mum, "You should be grateful." They entered a white, hospital-like room. Two expressionless people stood beside two identical chairs with straps on them.

"This makes perfect sense," thought Arthur, allowing himself to be strapped into a chair. In the chair beside Arthur, Ford's eyes widened in horror.

"That wasn't fair," he said indignantly, "You had no right to take over my mind."

"You took over mine," said Arthur, blinking.

"That—I—logic…shut up, Arthur! And don't you think the straps are a little excessive?"

"No," said Mum, "You are both dangerous criminals. All precautions are necessary."

"I'm not dangerous," said Arthur helpfully, "I'm only here because I drink tea."

Everyone gasped and Mum looked horrified.

"Ohhh, you deserve this," said Mum coldly, a steel edge to her jaw. Arthur looked more worried than usual after seeing the look on her face.

Meanwhile, a female guard wearing a helmet and sunglasses stepped into the room and stood at attention beside the door.

"Administer the injections," barked Mum. Arthur began to hyperventilate. The two expressionless, and also apparently genderless people raised their needles beside Arthur and Ford's arms. Arthur closed his eyes and braced himself while Ford frantically tried to think of a plan and realized that they'd taken away his satchel.

"Give it back!" he said angrily.

"What?" said Mum.

"Freeze!" shouted somebody, "Nobody move!" Three people dressed entirely in white and holding very large guns surrounded the chairs and Mum.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" said Mum.

"You are under arrest," said one of the figures in white, "For not sterilizing your needles."

"But we're killing them!" said Mum, "It's a lethal injection!"

"That's no excuse," said the figure, "You could give them a disease."

"They're going to die anyway!" said Mum disbelievingly.

"Right, that's enough lip from you," said the figure. He shot Mum with a stun gun and cuffed her. Then, he and the two other white-clad folk dragged Mum out of the room. The genderless executioners shrugged, and followed.

Arthur and Ford were left with the female guard, still strapped into their chairs.

"Don't worry," said Ford, "I've got a plan."

"I had one too," said the guard casually, walking over to the chairs, "But the Galactic Health Organisation just rendered it unnecessary."

"That's nice," said Ford, "Have you ever considered how satisfying to your ego it could be to let us go right now?"

"Probably," said the guard, "But first, you are going to explain why you left me on Trio." She removed her helmet, revealing a hat underneath, and then her sunglasses, revealing slightly insane hazel eyes.

"Malea?" said Ford, "But you were eaten by a Gvengabeast!"

"I said I was going to **feed** a Gvengabeast," said Malea Botor.

"Same thing," said Ford, "You were going to commit suicide."

Arthur pulled at his straps. They didn't get any looser.

"I was going to feed it nuts," said Malea, "A Gvengabeast is a little squirrel-like creature. How could it kill me?"

"It could gnaw you to death," said Ford. Arthur tried to wriggle out from the straps.

"True…" said Malea thoughtfully, "Or smother me."

"Or drown you in shit if you lived in a hole."

"Any chance you could set us free?" said Arthur, "Not that this isn't a brilliant conversation…"

"Double negative," said Malea.

"What?"

"You just used a double negative."

"I don't care," said Arthur impatiently.

"Well, it's your loss," said Malea, starting to cut off the straps, "Any idea why these are made of leather instead of metal?"

"None whatsoever," said Ford, "Are you coming back to the ship with me?"

"Yes."

"But you've got a new girlfriend," said Arthur.

"I wasn't going to mention that," said Ford, glaring at Arthur.

"It doesn't matter," said Malea, giving Ford back his satchel, "I'm too annoyed with you to be your girlfriend. I intend to be the mechanic on The Heart of Gold."

"But you're an Earth specialist," said Ford, "You don't understand anything about complicated machines."

"Oh, so **first** you abandon me on Trio and **now** you're crushing my dreams?" said Malea.

They all walked into a teleport booth. Ford set the coordinates.

"Fine," said Ford, "But you don't get to mess with the Improbability Drive." Arthur looked ill.

"Isn't there a little spaceship we could use insteaaargh!"

They arrived at The Heart of Gold. Zaphod was standing in front of the teleport booth.

"Guess what guys?" he said excitedly, "I checked the mail, and I may have already won a million dollars!"

"The world is mine!" said Reginald Stubbins, running past with a globe held over his head.

THE END

_Frickin' Long Story. Sheesh._

_This one took me a while to write, but I had the idea for it way back when I gave Ford a girlfriend. I mean, although Arthur didn't mention it…and I hate to say it…Andema, Clap, and Malea are based on me and my friends, although only if we'd been out in the galaxy for a while and gone insane. There's even a few references to them being them. I mean us._

_Seriously, though, Penny isn't really like Clap._

_That much…_

_So, I think the main reason I put Malea back in, was because like any self-respecting fan fiction writer, I couldn't stand not to have myself in my own stories once given the chance._

_So…Alek belongs to himself: he's a kid in my school. Sorry Alek._

_Also, Penny kindly informed me that my jolly executioner has speech patterns much like Arthur's friend Murray Bost Henson in So Long and Thanks For All the Fish. I was unaware of this while I was writing it and my response to Penny went something like: "Shut up and go away!"_

_The actual reason for the executioner was my unending amusment after going on a P.G. Wodehouse marathon. Heh. Upper-class British people are so funny._

_Oh, and I'm sure I've inadvertently stolen the "stiff drink and a lie-down" from somewhere else, though I'm not sure where. Or if I did._

_My memory is like…swiss cheese. It's really gummy and gross and full of holes._

_Or more like, I can't remember most things for more than two days. Sometimes I forget what I'm talking about in the middle of a sentence._

_Oh well._

_What else…_

_Oh, right. Mum is based on this really annoying mum in a movie I saw once and can't remember the name of. It was about this totally dysfunctional mother who neglects one of her daughters because she has a learning disability, even though she's brilliant at the piano. She kept using these little guilt trips on both her daughters, so I couldn't resist putting her in._

_Man oh man, Zaphod is childish in this story._

_There is an inordinate amount of plot holes, even for one of MY stories._

_Lastly, Reginald Stubbins makes my friend Marion laugh uncontrollably._

_I still have no idea why._


	13. Ford Finds a Pink Rain Poncho

Ford Finds a Pink Rain Poncho

"This is the most useful thing I've found for years," said Ford.

"Why?" said Malea, poking at a door with a screwdriver. The door was looking decidedly nervous.

"Are you trying to steal my boyfriend?" said Andema.

"No," said Malea, "I only want to be the mechanic."

"All right," said Andema, "What are you doing?"

"Fixing the doorknob."

"But that's a sliding door."

"Exactly."

Rachel chose this moment to enter.

"Hello," said Ford, "Who are you?"

"Rachel," said Rachel, "That's my poncho you're wearing."

"Hmm?" said Ford, "It's a tad snug." Rachel grinned.

"That's probably because it's mine."

"Well, you're not getting it back," said Ford.

"That's fine. It looks… better? No, actually, it's just funny."

"I'll accept that."

Andema fiddled with her cloned orange hat.

The door retreated from sight and Malea went after it with the screwdriver.

"Is there any point to this story?" Andema said suddenly.

"Is there any point to ANY of these stories?" said Ford.

"Ah," said Andema, "Point."

"Come OUT, damn you!" muttered Malea. Rachel walked over and took a look.

"You're probably breaking the door, you know."

"Where'd you come from anyway?" said Malea, changing the subject.

"Oh, I'm just a random character," said Rachel, "Would you like some chain mail?"

"No, not really," said Malea.

"Ow!" shrieked the door.

"Fine," said Rachel, and walked away, dragging a chain with mail on it behind her.

"That was a horrible pun," said Andema.

"Nobody panic," said Ford, "But I can't…move. This poncho is smaller than I expected."

Malea took a look.

"How adorable!" she said, "It's got a little hood!"

The door breathed a sigh of relief.

THE END

_And I've finished typing up the stories in my old, ratty pink ugly teddy-bear notebook, and will soon begin to type the stories in my lovely neon-green pretty lifty notebook._

_What a relief!_

_Questions will now be answered as I feel like it._

_elven-emma: Sure you can take a trip to my basement. Be sure to bring cards. They've worn theirs out. Also, you gave me the 42nd review! Congratulations! streamers and balloons fall from the ceiling Have any character you want for a day! But only a day, I'll need them back. Tell me when you choose! Oh, and British people are ALWAYS funny. Always. Never forget that, my young Jedi. And, yes, I'm rambling._

_Erin: Slartibartfast won't be in these ones, but he'll be in the other H2G2 story I'm writing on the side. I love his name too. Who doesn't?_

_Eileen: Yes, he did. But, my stories have done a pretty good job of avoiding the original plotlines so far, so there's no reason for me not to continue._

_MaidM: I DID forget that it was your idea. Sorry. The attic in the last storywas MaidM's idea, everyone! Oh, but the backyard is based off the backyard in my old house, so there you go. It's not ALL yours. I still don't know why you think Reginald Stubbins is so funny. Still._

_Regina Rex: Oh so THAT'S why he's not in any of my stories. I was wondering._

_Thank you to all my other reviewers! I'll answer anyone's questions, really. It may take a while, but I don't neglect my reviewers! Reviews make me feel all sunny! Oh yes, I am following my fish…_


	14. Arthur Gets Stuck in a Computer Game

Arthur Gets Stuck in a Computer Game

"Oh no!" said Arthur, "I'm stuck in a computer game!"

"This is awful!" said Ford. He had a large fish. He was eating it.

Zaphod walked past wearing a large sign on his head that said: 'I am really amazing and good-looking. Also, I've got a doorknob.'

"Why do you have a doorknob?" said Arthur. Zaphod brandished a Fruit-to-Go threateningly.

"Don't make me use this!" He ran away, into a wall, and fell unconscious on the floor.

"You didn't answer my question!" said Arthur.

"Probably to use against the giant turtle that's right behind you," answered Ford.

Arthur patted the turtle absent-mindedly on the head, then looked at it, screamed, and ran away. Ford ran up and vaulted onto the turtle's back.

"Hya!" he cried. The turtle began to lumber slowly down the hall.

"YeeHA!" shouted Ford excitedly.

Three minutes later, the turtle had moved a few inches.

Ford had fallen asleep.

Trillian walked in and locked the kitchen door, then walked away.

Arthur ran in with a large hammer, singing "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" quietly. He bonked Ford on the head with it.

Ford sprang into action.

"Oh no!" he cried, and jumped off the spaceship.

"Damn," said Arthur wearily, "Not again." He patted the turtle, screamed quietly to himself, then lowered a rope out of the door.

"What I don't understand," he said, "Is why all the air and heat hasn't been sucked out of the ship."

"Don't expose the plot holes!" said Ford in a muffled voice.

THE END

_"Maxwell's Silver Hammer" belongs to The Beatles because they wrote it. It's true. You can even look it up._

_This story was actually originally number 13 as opposed to the Poncho story. I mixed them up because my notebook is very disorganized._

_I don't really think it matters, though. This story sort of stands on its own, really._

_Or flops weakly to the side, whatever…_

_It came basically from a lot of private jokes I don't remember any more, I think, and me making fun of a H2G2 computer game I was going to make before I decided quite rightly that it would be WAY too much effort. Most of the puzzle seemed to involve getting into the kitchen, which was locked, and then I realized I had no idea why it was locked in the first place._

_So, there y'are. A glimpse into how my mind works._

_How nice of me._

_Lastly, scrawnydachicken, I may write your story with the frickin' long name. Although, if you notice, most of my stories sort of fall into that category. I know there's too many characters and I'm afraid that I add even more later. It's a bit confusing for me too, especially because I tend to forget them and then I'll be like, "Oh, wait, I forgot ." And then I have to stick something in._

_Saith Rayse, all I have to say to you is MWAHAHAHAHAHA!_

_So, er, I'll see how soon I can post other things._

_Leah, Away!_


	15. Zaphod Gets Hit in the Head by a Telepor...

Zaphod Gets Hit in the Head by a Teleporting Brick

"Ow," said Zaphod.

THE END

_Yes, I DID just write a story shorter than Ford Goes on a Diet._

_Saith Rayse: Zyngiatashkyatriallryameponegomolyatry? I'm shocked and appalled! Wash your mouth out with soap, young man!_


	16. Sex!

Sex!

_Ford walked up to Arthur._

_"Guess what," he said._

_"What?"_

_"I love you passionately."_

_"You read my mind," said Arthur. They went off somewhere and did something romantic._

All this was happening on a vid-screen because Ford had plugged in some improbabilities that he liked into the computer and it had churned out this vid. Arthur had been talked into watching it although he now wished he'd stayed in bed.

Arthur watched the screen in horror.

"Wha…what are you…"

"Sim-Ford," said Ford, coming to the couch with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn.

"What's Sim-Ford doing?"

"I obviously can't say."

"Why not?"

"It's physically impossible."

"How do you know?"

"I've tried."

"Ah," said Arthur, deciding not to question further.

"Hey guys," said Zaphod, sitting down, "This is really out there. When did you two do this?"

"I didn't!" Arthur said anxiously, "It was Sim-Arthur! And Sim-Ford!"

"What'd Sim-Me just say?" said Ford.

"Something about being together forever," said Zaphod.

"What, while doing THAT?" said Arthur, disgusted.

"Yeah," said Ford, cramming popcorn into his mouth. He noticed the next bit and coughed.

"Even I wouldn't do that," he said after he stopped choking. Arthur threw up gently.

Clap came in.

"Whoa," she said, "This is… You two are…"

Clap left.

"You better not be stealing my boyfriend, Arthur," yelled Andema.

"Sim-Arthur!" said Arthur frantically.

THE END

_I leave it up to you to decide whether I'm making fun of Ford/Arthur slashers or not. Actually, I have a lifty explanation at my LJ somewhere._

_So…I took a while updating, and I'm back with a bunch of innuendoes. If you look closely, I never actually put in anything offensive. I just insinuated it._

_(So if my dad's reading this, no, I am not writing smut now!)_

_Now for some insinuated question answering! And comments if I feel like it!_

_Grim Reaper: Well, I like my made-ups. But this story has less made-ups than usual, see? And, er…well, I have slight difficulty with Trillian. I thrive on randomness and…Trillian is so sensible._

_Minor God: Wow. That last review was extremely flattering. I think I giggled when I read it first._

_Sarah The Paranoid Android: Our chief weapon is surprise. Surprise and fear._


	17. This Chronic Liar

This Chronic Liar

Ford was looking at a glass of water. He had been doing so for the last five hours.

"Ford, what are you doing?" said Arthur.

"This water is excited," said Ford.

"What?"

"Look at all those happy little molecules."

"I can't. They're too small."

"Your loss," said Ford, an intrigued look on his face. Clap walked into the room and drank the water. Ford continued to stare at where the glass had been.

"Does this five pound bag of sugar belong to anyone?" said Clap, "Because I'm getting tired of carrying it around."

"What kind of sugar?" said Malea. Clap opened it and checked.

"Whimsy."

"Sold!" cried Malea, and took it away from Clap.

"Good," said Clap, "I'll practise some lightsaber moves." She began to do something quite dangerous with her lightsaber.

"Wait," said Arthur, "Where did Malea come from?" Malea shrugged, and began to eat the sugar.

"Isn't that rather unhealthy?" said Arthur.

"Probably," said Andema, "It's never bothered me." Clap seemed to be fencing.

"Aha!" she shouted as she parried an imaginary attack.

"I suggest, then, you go to the next sausage," said Ford.

"Right," said Clap, who seemed to find this information helpful.

"All right, now I feel sick," said Malea. She carefully rolled down the top of the bag of sugar and secured it with an elastic.

Clap lunged with her lightsabre. Arthur fell backwards in an attempt to get out of the way.

"Throw a melon at me," said Clap.

"What?" said Arthur.

"Melon," said Clap, backing up and spinning the lightsabre in front of her. She finally stopped, her sword pointed in front of her. She bounced gently from foot to foot, her left hand held above and behind her head.

"But where…" said Arthur, trailing off when he noticed a melon beside him on the floor.

"How did that get there?" said Arthur.

"Throw!" said Clap.

"Argh! I can't stand it!" said Malea, grabbing the melon and throwing it at Clap.

"Wah!" said Clap, hitting the melon.

It exploded.

"Didn't expect **that** to happen," said Clap.

"What happened in here?" said Trillian, walking through the door. Every bit of the room was covered with melon. Arthur wiped melon off of his face.

"Clap exploded a melon."

"I liked these pants," Malea said mournfully.

Trillian frowned.

"Why is Ford staring at the table?"

"Loss?" said Clap, "Can I hit him with a textbook?"

"I don't know," said Malea, "Can you? Should we ask your doctor?"

"That was horrible," said Arthur, "One of my teachers always used to say that."

"Why are you wearing a hat?" said Clap, looking at Malea suspiciously, "Why do you never take it off?"

"I take it off," said Malea defensively.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." They glared at each other. Arthur thought it was a silly thing to get into an argument about.

"Well, take it off then," challenged Clap.

"I will," said Malea.

"Do it now."

"Okay." Malea took off her hat. She had red hair underneath the hat.

"Oh," said Clap, "I thought you were hiding something. Like baldness. Or antlers."

"How could she hide antlers under that hat?" said Trillian.

"They don't have to be pointy antlers," said Clap sulkily. Malea pulled her hat firmly back onto her head.

"When you were waving your sword-thing and bouncing a lot…" started Arthur.

"Yes?" Clap prompted.

"…why were you holding your other hand above your head?"

"That's a very important thing," said Clap, "The hand is supposed to hold something."

"Like what?"

"Like a samurai. Or a sandwich. You're never hungry when you fight."

"Oh. I thought it might supposed to be a dagger."

"Pff," said Clap derisively and flipped the melon from her hair. A piece hit Ford in the eye.

"Ow!" he said, "Melon!" He looked up.

"Wait a second… Did Malea take off her hat?"

"Yes," said Arthur.

"How'd you get her to do it?" said Ford. Andema poked her head in.

"Ah. I **thought** I heard the sound of a melon exploding."

"Andema?" said Malea.

"Yes?"

"What do you do for work?"

"I'm a ranger. I range."

"A _space ranger_?" said Clap.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"So," said Ford, "Want to go and get some takeout?"

"_Space takeout_?" said Clap.

"Yes."

"This juice is torturing me!" said Zaphod.

THE END

_Okay. Sorry this one took so long, but I hate typing. A lot._

_So, this one has a lot of thingys I have to make. Er, dedications? No. That's not what I mean. Oh well._

_The title comes from a comment my friend Penny made although I can no longer remember the context. But I think it was funny._

_Most of the comments Ford makes at the start come from various comments my science teacher made in class. I don't know what the "sausages" comment means either._

_Um, lightsabers belong to George Lucas, or something._

_I wore a hat for almost all of last year, so that's where the hat bit came from. People kept enticing me to take off my hat and I actually got three bonus points in History for taking it off. Score!_

_The "samurai and sandwich for fencing" bit came from a short class in stage fencing I got to go to. Those were two of the ideas thrown out and I got this image (or maybe Marion did, I'm not sure) of this fencer jabbing their blade out in front of them, "Ha HA!" and then taking a huge bite out of the sandwich in their hand._

_Zaphod's only line comes from an advertisement for POM pomegranate juice. "Floss your arteries. Daily!" Best Ad EVER._

_The story ideas belong to me, as does Malea, and at least half of the characters of Andema and Clap. The other half belongs to the actual people._

_And, lastly, everything else belongs to Douglas Adams. Or whoever inherited the trademark, I have no idea._

_Now for some comment commenting and question answering!_

_scathac's warrior: Well, I can't see it happening. As I said, huge rant on my LJ on why not._

_Saith Rayse:Or so you think…_

_BeatlesLover: I like your name! And I also agree. With it. I mean, I also am one._

_Adjectives are hard to come up with. That's why I like thesauruses. It makes me sound more intelligent than I am. Or less. I dunno._

_Hannah: Oh yes, it started with the radio series. I think so, anyway. If he wrote some sort of cereal first, please tell me! And don't worry, the weirdness is part of my personality. There'd have to be some sort of…personality…sucker…outer…thing…_

_malakie: Yay, thesaurus!_

_Fellowship of the Band Geeks: Those are all good fandoms but, er, what the photon do you mean? I mean, "loosely based" could mean about anything. I'd probably be okay, but, just to be sure, could you define 'loosely based' in the next review or something?_

_Lily Knotwise: Huzzah! You're alive again! I'll get you that birthday story, I promise, just… stay alive, okay? Oh, and it totally has to do with a computer game. I was making fun of the plotline I wrote for my H2G2 computer game, which I never actually made._

_Oh, and if there's anyone else, who wants to enter themselves in a story, still let me know in an email. I've got the others and I'm writing stories on them. I've just got a large amount of backup that I'm trying to get rid of. No worries. I'll have it done eventually._

_This happens often. I start typing grudgingly, and then I can't stop. I should be able to bottle effort, then imbibe it when I need it most._

_If anyone here invents bottled initiative, tell me first, okay?_


	18. Ford and the Gangsters

Ford and the Gangsters

Ford met some bootleggers.

"Cool," he said. But their booze was way too expensive. So he left, in search of some female bootleggers so he would have an excuse to look up their skirts.

THE END

_"Hey baby," said Ford, "Can I see your bootlegs?"_

_"That is, like, the worst pickup line ever," said the female bootlegger._

_"Oh," said Ford, "Can I see one bootleg?"_

_"No."_

_"Can I see a boot?"_

_"I don't have any."_

_"What? Impostor!" shouted Ford. The anti-bootleg-impersonation police came and arrested her._

_Ford stole her booze._

_A passing layabout stole her legs._

_"I was using those!" shouted the female bootlegger, "Curse you Ford Prefect! I'll get revenge if it's the last thing I do!"_

_"They all say that," said Ford. The passing layabout stole the booze._

_"Curse you passing layabout!" shouted Ford._

THE END

_What **I** want to know is how the bootlegger knew Ford's full name…_

_The whole idea for this story came from History where we were studying bootlegging. Heh. Canada still had boo-ooze(taunting tones)._

_The reason this story has two endings is because I ended it(first ending) and then Penny suggested the pickup line, which I thought was great, so I had to use it. But erasing the second the end would take too much work, and so would starting a new story. So there you are._

_BeatlesLover: You don't happen to be Muffin Queen, do you? Anyhow, thanks. I'm sorry about the glasses incident._

_Fellowship of the Band Geeks: OK, I'm totally fine with that. I mean, I wouldn't have thought I had monopoly on that type of series, but thank you very much for asking. Have fun, and I look forward to reading them!_

_Saith Rayse: Too bad. And, maybe slight description of yourself or the character you want to portray in FoaDM might help a bit. I can't very well say, "Suddenly, some non-descript guy appeared." Think it over, OK?_

_I think it's a new trend of mine to reply to every single new review. Lifty, huh?_


	19. Ford Gets Drunk and Tries to Tell a Joke

Ford Gets Drunk and Tries to Tell a Joke

"No, really, this is a great joke," said Ford, slumping back in his chair.

"I…" said Arthur.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," said Ford, "You're thinking…no, I've forgotten what." He banged the table.

"But," he said pointedly, "There's this one thing you've got to know."

"The one thing," he said seriously, and close to Arthur's face, "Was that I bloody well knew what you were talking…no, I mean thinking…" Ford slammed his fist down.

"The point is, is that I KNEW."

"I said I wanted to hear your joke half an hour ago," said Arthur.

Three hours ago, Ford had asked Arthur if he wanted to get drunk, because, he, Ford, was going to. Arthur had said, yes, he'd like that very much. And he would have, until Ford took out the Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. Now he was simply sitting here, as Ford babbled on in a drink induced haze. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good drink. He reasoned this was because the first Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster he had ever been stupid enough to try had burned that memory out of his brain.

"Right," said Ford, "So these four furry things walk into a bar, and there are a bunch of girls there. And one of the girls says, 'Not my watermelon' and the furry things all yell, 'It's snowing!'"

Ford laughed so hard he cried.

"I don't get it," said Arthur.

"Oh…h….h," said Ford, struggling to stop laughing.

"Who's laugh…oh. It's you Ford," said Andema, "Oh look. Drinks!" She sat down and took one of the many drinks covering the table. She took a sip.

"So, what's so funny?" said Andema.

"Here, I've got another one," said Ford.

"He's telling jokes," Arthur explained wearily.

"Oh," said Andema, wincing slightly as she took another sip.

"Okay. There's a Vogon wearing a hat…no, that's not right. He's wearing a sock. A sock on his head. And the sock has got greeting cards on it and little blue stars. And the sock implodes! Hahaha, and then the…haha, the Vogon says…" Ford gasped for air, "…he says 'Where's my dinner!'" Ford began to laugh again.

"No, I don't get it either," said Andema. Wild laughter came from another source as well. Arthur looked around and discovered it to be Malea, who had collapsed against the wall.

"What's so funny!" said Arthur, "I don't understand these jokes!"

"I…don't…either," Malea managed to gasp.

"Oh," said Arthur, "Then what are you laughing about?"

"Just…it's funny because it doesn't make sense," said Malea.

"Are you drunk?" said Arthur suspiciously.

"No, I don't drink," said Malea solemnly.

"I've got another one," said Ford.

"Yes!" said Malea.

"There was a beach," said Ford, "A beach covered in sand. Well, there were some rocks too. And the beach was made of sand. Some of the sand was underwater, otherwise it wouldn't be a beach. I was on the beach once. But the sun was too bright for me to see much." Ford finished off his 17th Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

"So?" said Arthur.

"That's it," said Ford, "Except for the clams. They were being fished. You see?" Ford gestured to try and prompt Arthur.

"I just don't get it," said Arthur.

"I've got a joke," said Zaphod, "How many Earthlings does it take to reconfigure a troflboard? 304, because the… Oh."

Trillian, who had also appeared randomly, was glaring at him.

"What's a troflboard?" said Arthur. Zaphod and Ford sniggered.

"A man walked into a bar," said Clap loudly, walking into the room, "and he walked up to a barstool and sat down. And the bartender said 'What'll you have?' And the man said 'Something really strong.' So the bartender decided to play a joke, and he mixed him up a triple helping of Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

'Now look,' said the bartender, 'I'm going to start you out on a simple gin and tonic, and we'll see if you can hold it. But I've got a bet for you. I think you're a man who can't hold his liquor but if you prove me wrong, I'll give you this drink and another one for free. But if you lose, you have to pay 10 times the price of this drink.'

'All right,' said the other man, and gulped it down. The bartender waited for the man's brain to burn out. But the man simply blinked.

'Can I have my free drink now?' he said.

'I have to admit something,' said the bartender, 'I didn't give you a gin and tonic. I gave you a triple helping of Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. So tell me: How did you manage to hold your drink?'

'Well,' said the man. But then the bar exploded and everyone died." Clap grinned. Everyone else was very quiet.

"Here," said Clap, "I've got another one. What goes, 'Aghaghagh, my leg, ow, argh, the horrible horrible pain, ahhhhhhh, arggghhh, I'm dying… ohowwwwww, aaahhrrrgghh…"

"What…?" said Arthur tentatively.

"People who don't laugh at my jokes," said Clap.

Everyone laughed really loudly.

THE END

_This all came about during a lunch discussion. I think I was joking with Penny about Ford trying to tell a sex joke but he forgets all of the plot and it ends up being really obscure. Then I just decided to make Ford tell obscure jokes. Because obscure jokes are funny._

_In my mind, Zaphod's entire joke goes something like this: How many Earthlings does it take to reconfigure a troflboard? 304, because they're so stupid!_

_It's probably an old, traditional Betelgeusian joke._

_Also, Clap's joke was inspired by a guy in my class from Grade four to Grade 8 called Shimmy. He used to tell jokes like that which I found endlessly amusing. So did he. They weren't generally as long though. They were more like, "Two guys walked into a bar. And then they died._

_So, thanks, Shimmy._

_Bobbobbob Magreya. Tonight at nine…_

_Here are comments._

_Lily Knotwise: Good._

_BeatlesLover: Eh. I was just wondering, because I got a totally anonymous submission. From this Muffin Queen. If I paid attention, I'd probably know who it really was, but I haven't been reading anyone's thingy recently, so I don't know. Thank you. I wear glasses too, except I've been trying to get rid of them. Leaving them in different places… Tossing them casually over my shoulder at the beach… Nothing works. My dad actually went diving for them, and FOUND THEM. /sigh/ I really want new glasses._

_Jimmy the Gothic Egg: I feel like your name was something different before. Oh well. Anything that gives me the false illusion of a new person reading my story is good. And thank you. I like that line too. I know authors aren't supposed to think their own work is funny, or something, but I'm just too full of myself for that to happen. I read it and laugh hysterically. Sad, isn't it._

_Kkwy: I have absolutely no idea how to pronounce that. But, and I may have mentioned this already 16 zillion times in various places and ways, but the book is always better than the movie. Without exception. And I think we're probably both insane._

_schneizerflaggen: Wow, I've been printed. I feel…special._

_gnatbuzz21: And I do. That's the best way to verify goodness, is it not? Just make a few people laugh, and my job is done._

_And holy crap, man, 84 reviews! I feel loved._


	20. Zaphod Gets His Own Story

Zaphod Gets His Own Story

"Hoopy," said Zaphod, "I've been somewhat ignored lately. Which is bad, because I'm the ex-president of the galaxy and an all around cool guy."

"Why am I in this story?" said Clap, "I don't even like Zaphod."

"Are you sure?" said Zaphod.

"I'm not even going to waste bullets on you," said Clap.

"Come on, baby," said Zaphod.

"All right," said Clap, "You talked me into it." She shot one of Zaphod's arms.

"Zark," said Zaphod.

THE END

_I forgot to mention this. Sorry for the huge gap between stories. I've been banned off the computer._

_Poor Zaphod. He gets so little air time._

_I need to fix that. Zaphod's a cool guy._


	21. Grabbo

Grabbo

"So… is it difficult being under-appreciated?" said Andema awkwardly.

"Yeah," said the girl, "It sucks. Everything sucks. I hate it."

"Well, have you ever thought of learning to play the guitar?" said Andema, "It's a nice way of expelling angst. You can write depressing songs. Or maybe some sort of boyfriend to give you the love you never had."

"I don't want love," said the girl sulkily, "I don't need it. I don't need anyone. What's a guitar?"

"And instrument. With strings. There's one in the attic."

"Fucking hell, I hate it here!" screamed the girl, standing up and kicking the wall.

"It's not anyone's fault," said Andema, "Except Arthur's."

And it was. A strange ship had started firing things at them and Arthur had panicked and activated the Infinite Improbability Drive. And Andema had ended up in the white room with nothing in it except an angry girl.

"Arthur?" said the girl, "I should have known! My dad always ruins my life. All I was trying to do was destroy the remnants of my mother's past. But my dad ruined everything!" She burst into sudden tears.

"Wait," said Andema, "Arthur's your dad?" The girl nodded.

"Then who's your mum?" said Andema, trying to figure it out.

"Trillian," said the girl.

"Is it Clap Wr… What! _Trillian!_" Andema thought this over. It didn't make any sense.

"Wait again," she said, "You were in the other ship that was trying to destroy us?"

"I'm not a murderer," wept the girl, "I didn't think anyone was on the ship."

"Of course you aren't, dear," said Andema, patting the girl on the shoulder. The girl shrugged her away.

"'m fine," she muttered. Andema took this time to think about an Arthur/Trillian relationship. It still didn't make sense.

In another part of the ship, which looked like a lush, Amazonian jungle, Clap Writer was hunting down Arthur Dent, armed with a blowgun because she felt it was appropriate.

Arthur was very frightened. He didn't think he'd be able to hear her coming. He knew she could probably hear him, crashing through the brush. He ran forward then pressed himself against a tree, trying not to move. He wished he'd never pressed that button.

Clap was very angry. Arthur had no right to destroy her heroic rescue plan. She had been ready to grab the controls and engage in a death dance with the other ship, a dance in which that ship would surely die. Besides, she had equipped the ship with guns and she wanted to try them out. It had taken careful planning and a lot of stolen money, but she had managed to learn how to install guns. Then, she had simply installed the several plasma cannons hidden on her person.

Arthur tried wildly to climb a tree, and failed. He peeked around the side of the tree, saw Clap, gasped, and began to run. Glancing to the side, he saw a sign that said "Aurther".

"What does that mean?" Arthur thought briefly. A poison dart whistled past his ear. Arthur screamed and dove into a bush.

Somewhere else on the ship, it was snowing. Ford looked down at himself.

"Damnit," he squawked, "I'm a penguin again!"

"Well this is just awful," said Zaphod, "I'm in the middle of some desert with some girl who apparently doesn't like me."

"I don't not like you," said Malea, "I'm just not physically attracted to you."

"Yeah," said Zaphod bitterly, "That. And I'm also pretty sure this desert is filled with lions."

"Isn't that a savannah?" said Malea.

There was an answering roar.

"Oh."

"This is one hell of a mrogpit. What's next, piranhas that swim through the air?"

"Well…yes, actually."

"Zark!"

Trillian took a sip of the alcohol that was being tentatively offered to her by the bartender.

"Thanks, this is good." The bartender grinned anxiously and began to scrub away at the counter. Actually, this place wasn't that bad. She was actually glad that Arthur had pressed that button. Although, she intended to tell him that the Improbability Drive wasn't the solution for everything.

Something nuzzled up under the hand that wasn't holding the liquor. Trillian looked down, and was only mildly surprised to see a wallaby. After all, the bartender was a chimpanzee.

"Eoo," said the bartender, patting her arm.

"Yes, thank you, I'm fine." The bartender mimed something.

"Am I what? Sitting? Sitting on a pillow? Comfortable? Oh! Yes, thank you. I've never been on a more comfortable, er, padded stump." It was rather crudely made, as was the bar. Which made sense because the whole thing was in a jungle clearing. The wallaby hopped up into Trillian's lap.

"Don't you live in Australia?" mused Trillian. The chimp gestured.

"Yes? Well, I suppose this is all generated by the improbability field, so this is surprisingly understandable."

"Ook, eoop, oo?"

"Yes please."

"Ow!" shouted Zaphod, "I'm being eaten alive!"

"You are not," said Malea.

"Ow! Yes! They're biting me!"

"Oh. So they are. Well at least you have a lot of limbs for them to go through."

"Agh!" Zaphod flailed wildly with his arms, then curled up on the sand.

"Well she's no help," one of his heads said.

"No," said the other one, wincing, "What do you think I should do?"

"Let's run," said the first one, "Unless I have a handy laser gun." The second head glanced back.

"No. I'll have to run." Zaphod bounded to his feet and began to run. The piranhas streamed after him. Malea ran, and managed to catch up. She was holding something behind her back.

"What IS that?" yelled Zaphod, "Some kinda weapon?"

"No, actually, it's your banjo." She handed it to Zaphod.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" screamed Zaphod angrily.

"Play it."

"And what will that do?"

"Make this scene a whole lot funnier."

"Zarquon, I hate you!" shouted Zaphod, starting to play some fast chase music. They ran across the sloping, yellow desert, a solid line of piranhas snapping behind them. The fast-paced chase music did, indeed, make the scene funnier.

"And then there was the childcare," said the girl morosely, "There's no limit to the amount of times I met myself there."

"What was that like?" asked Andema.

"Dull."

"Oh… By the way, my name's Andema. What's yours?"

"Random. My mom couldn't even take the time to give me a real name. We have a hate/hate relationship. I don't know. I think she's a sadist."

"No, Random, I'm sure your mother loves you."

"Then why'd she abandon me with Arthur on that nowhere planet?"

"Maybe it was because she knew you'd be cared for there, and Arthur would have more time for you," said Andema, desperately grasping at straws.

"Yeah, well, I guess my dad was sort of nice," muttered Random, "At least he didn't abandon me. But he resented me just as much as everyone in the galaxy!" Her voice rose into a scream, then faded into loud sobs. Andema placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, while trying to figure out if Arthur and Trillian had ever done anything before that signified sexual attraction. She drew a total blank.

Arthur convulsed.

"Anti…ghhh…" The poison slowly worked its way along his body from the dart in his back. Clap, a long way away, leaned thoughtfully against a tree.

"You know, in retrospect, I probably shouldn't have used a poison that froze the vocal cords."

"Ghh…" said Arthur.

"And froze the muscles." Arthur tried to struggle and failed quite miserably.

"Now come, be reasonable," said Clap reasonably, "I'm feeling much better now. But really, how do you expect me to give you the antidote if you won't tell me where you are?" Arthur tried to whimper, and failed.

"Well, this is a nice bar, but I really should be going," said Trillian. The bartender looked sad. Trillian sighed.

"Do you happen to know the way out?" The bartender grinned. He clambered over the bar, grasped Trillian's hand, and began to toddle off, pulling her after him. Trillian resisted the compelling urge to pat the chimp on the head. Instead, she followed, the wallaby wobbling precariously on her shoulder.

Ford twisted his neck around to look for his satchel. It was still hanging at his side. He attempted to open it with his flippers then gave up and used his beak. The satchel was full of fish. Ford winced, a difficult feat for a penguin, then gave in to instinct and began to eat the fish.

"Um, so, how do we get out of here?" said Random, more politely than she had been yet.

"I…" said Andema, "Ford says you're supposed to walk through the door."

"Yeah?" said Random, "Maybe this room has a SoDL on it. I'll test it out." She checked her watch, scowled, and closed her eyes.

"A Soddle?" said Andema.

"Shh," said Random. She opened her eyes and looked around.

"Hey, there's the door."

"What?" said Andema. She spun around.

"There is no door!" Random plugged her ears.

"Yes there is! Shutupshutupshutup."

"All right…" said Andema. Random walked up to the wall, and walked through. She walked back in.

"Okay, you've been nice to me, I guess, so I'll tell you. There is a door. I just walked through it."

"But…" said Andema.

"Shh!" said Random, "Look, there is definitely a door here. Close your eyes and I'll lead you through it." Andema closed her eyes and Random yanked her forward.

"Right. We're out now, okay?" Andema opened her eyes. She was standing on one of a series of very green, rolling hills. She turned around. Through an open doorway, she could see the white room. Something seemed familiar.

"Ohhh," said Andema, "By Soddle, you meant SoDL, a Suspension of Disbelief Lock."

"Yeah," said Random, "I learned about those way long ago."

"Are you sure you want to go here," said Andema, "Everything improbable can happen."

"Fine with me," said random, "Anything is better than that dump."

"I thought it was rather clean," said Andema. They each took one step, slipped, and began to slide around the hills at a very high speed. It made a sound like this: FOOM!

Why it made that sound was inexplicable.

"I'm exhausted," said Zaphod, "I'm not going to play this banjo anymore."

"Yes you are," said Malea viciously, "And you are going to like it."

"No, I'm not."

"Fine." Zaphod tossed the banjo over his shoulder. With a pop, it disappeared.

"Ow!" said Clap as a banjo fell on her head. She fell sideways into a bush, and spotted Arthur.

"Oh, hello Arthur. How are you feeling?"

"Dead?" thought Arthur. His eyes were wide.

"I suppose I'd better give you that antidote, then." She slowly began to rummage through her vest pockets.

"Ow," thought Arthur.

Trillian followed the ape through the jungle. The baby wallaby had transferred itself to her other shoulder, and was still struggling to stay up. The forest became darker.

"Are you sure we're getting OUT?" said Trillian. The bartender turned to her and gave her a hurt look.

"Oh, all right," said Trillian, feeling guilty. The trees latched together overhead. Soon, it was so dark that Trillian couldn't see a thing. She held her arm out in front of her so that she wouldn't bump into anything, then promptly bumped her head on a ceiling, and ducked down.

"Ook," said the chimp, and gently pulled her through a hole. Trillian closed her eyes against the sudden light. When she opened them again, she was in a very clean, modern kitchen.

"Oh," she said, "This is nice…"

"I like that the fish aren't biting me," said Malea.

"I don't," said Zaphod. His clothes were in tatters and he was bleeding a lot. Malea could hardly breath from trying not to laugh.

"You have a stupid sense of humour," said Zaphod, "Oh ZARK. Here they come again." Zaphod began to run, Malea panting behind.

"Where are all the oasis's?" said Malea.

"No, u r, " said Zaphod, too tired to think of an applicable insult. Malea was stunned into silence by the inarguability of the insult.

"There?" said Malea quietly after a while.

"What's there?" said Zaphod, "Oh, an oasis."

Malea began to sing Wonderwall quietly before breaking into a coughing fit. Her throat was very dry. Both gasping, they reached the oasis. Zaphod dove into the water. The water became all bloody and gross.

"Okay, NOW I don't like you," croaked Malea.

"There," said Clap, "Now, isn't that better?" Arthur screamed.

"Yes," he said, after a while.

"Oh," said Clap, "I guess you needed to get that out of your system. Because the poison prevented you from screaming."

"Not exactly," said Arthur.

"What was it, then?" said Clap.

"It was because of how you gave me the antidote," said Arthur squeamishly.

"It wasn't that bad," said Clap.

"You jabbed a needle into my _eye_ and injected something that felt like acid."

"Many's the time I've had to give myself an antidote in the exact same way."

"What? That's disgusting! Why couldn't you just inject it into your arm?" Clap fixed him with a stare.

"But where," she said, "would be the fun in that?"

Andema tried to dig her boots into the ground. They made no contact. She narrowly missed a collision with Random. Random, surprisingly, was smiling.

"This is fun," she said, "Not as fun as a Zrano, but still."

"A Zrano?"

"Yeah. Geez, Andema, what'd you do? Spend your entire life in a different place and time?"

"Well actually," began Andema.

"Thought so," said Random smugly.

"Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away…"

"Zark! I don't want your life story!"

"Well, you asked," said Andema, sounding slightly hurt, "How do you stop this ride?"

"Why do you expect me to know?"

"Because if it doesn't stop soon, I'm going to throw up."

"Hey baby, the water's great," said Zaphod, "Come on in."

"That sentence is wrong in so many ways," said Malea.

"Oh yeah?" said Zaphod, "Name one."

"Firstly," said Malea, "You called me baby. DON'T call me baby. Secondly, the water is not great, it's filled with loads of blood and other crap. I wouldn't get in that if you paid me. Well, actually, I would, but you would have to pay me a lot. Thirdly, 'Come on in' is improper grammar. You can't put two thingies beside each other."

"Two whats?"

"I don't know what they're called but you…just…CAN'T."

"I bet you're making that up."

"Not!" Zaphod climbed out of the disgusting water.

"So, we should get going now, right?"

Malea punched his arm.

"Yes. But I get the next oasis."

"You punch like a girl," said Zaphod, avoiding the question.

"I _am_ a girl, you buffoon!" said Malea, "And that's a sexist statement."

"Hey, it's true," said Zaphod lightly.

"Clap's a girl. And Clap is kickass."

"She's an exception."

"So is Andema."

"Another exception."

"So? You want me to tell your girlfriend that you think all girls are weak?"

"Go ahead, baby. I don't care."

Malea growled and began to speed forward with clenched fists. Zaphod decided to let her go first.

If she had looked back, Malea would have been very annoyed to see the oasis purifying itself. But she wouldn't have been angry unless she managed to look at it and not look at it at the same time, which would be improbable enough to hurt her brain. So, in all, it was pretty lucky that she didn't. Instead, she looked forward, and incidentally fell into a really deep hole, which just goes to show you that you can't tempt fate. Or that Snorblats Croom makes a pretty good banana crumble. Neither one makes sense, and both were what went through the mind of Malea as she fell.

Zaphod though: This looks like a whole buncha fun.

Then he jumped in after.

"Yes, thank you, this kitchen is lovely," said Trillian. The chimp grinned and opened the fridge. He began to take things out. Trillian watched as he romped from the fridge to the cupboards. He indicated something.

"What, pan…bread, no…cakes? Do I want pancakes? Well, that would be very nice, thank you." The baby wallaby bounced to her lap, as she sat down. She needed the seat.

Andema and Random swirled into a hole and downwards.

"Ow!" they cried as they collided with Zaphod and Malea.

"Hi," they all said in several different ways.

"So, Andema," said Zaphod, "Who's this new chick?"

"I'm not a chick," said Random, "My name is Random." Malea pulled Andema over to the side so they could talk about their plans for taking over the Heart of Gold.

"That's a lifty name," said Zaphod.

"Yeah?" said Random, "Thanks."

"You're a pretty cool girl, you," said Zaphod.

"And you're the ex-President of the Galaxy," said Random, "You're totally so cool."

"Yeah, I know," said Zaphod, "You're really great too." With a SPRIM, Arthur and Clap appeared.

"I **knew** that Aurther sign had relevance," said Clap. Arthur stood up and gaped.

"What? Random? H…hello?" Random spun around.

"Hi…" she said awkwardly. Zaphod raised an eyebrow on one head. The other head was still checking out Random.

"Hey, Random-baby, tell me how you know this totally unhoopy guy?" Random opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"I…"

"So, how's your watch?" said Arthur loudly, feeling like he needed to start a conversation.

"Oh, it's fine," said Random, "Still…good. How are…the sandwiches?" Zaphod was now staring openly at both Random and Arthur, a look of confusion on his faces.

"No, seriously, how do you know him?"

"The sandwiches are…good," said Arthur. Clap got bored and went away.

"Tell me NOW!" said Zaphod.

"She's my, um…" said Arthur.

"He's, um…" said Random.

"…daughter," said Arthur.

"I've never met him in my life," said Random at the same time.

"Whaaat?" said Zaphod, "Random, is this true?"

"Er…yes," said Random, "He's my dad."

"Whaaaaat?" said Zaphod, "I was trying to verify the 'never met him' comment because the other is…just too…ridiculous!" Trillian crawled in through a convenient hole.

"Hi Random," she said.

"GGRRROSSSS," said Zaphod, "I was coming on to Monkey-Man's daughter?"

"She's my daughter too," said Trillian.

"WHAAAAT?" said Zaphod.

"You're both ruining my life," said Random sulkily.

"No," said Andema, coming back from her conference, "They're not. Random, Zaphod is your mother's boyfriend."

"Why does life hate me?" screamed Random, and ran off to sulk by a wall, hugging her knees against her chest.

"When did _that_ happen?" said Zaphod.

"Well, I wanted to have a child…" began Trillian. Somewhere off to the side, Clap was explaining what had happened.

"So I thought, maybe the ship just doesn't know how to spell Arthur. So we went back to the sign…"

"Isn't the ship super-intelligent?" said Malea. Clap made a sound of annoyance.

"_Maybe_ it made a _typo_. But anyhow…"

"…and then I told Arthur he needed to take some responsibility and I left Random with him."

"Thank STAN," said Zaphod, "I thought that I was losing my touch if you were leaving me for him."

"Well thank _you_ very much," gibbered Arthur. Trillian decided not to point out that she had left Zaphod before when he was being a jerk.

"That's a little backwards, isn't it?" said Andema thoughtfully.

"What is?" said Trillian.

"Well," said Andema, "You _abandoned_ your child, after dumping her in child care for almost her entire life, and then you told Arthur that _he_ needed to take some responsibility." By this time, both Clap and Malea were watching.

"Well, he did," said Trillian, "It was his child too." Andema put her hands on her hips.

"No, she's not his child. By genetics, maybe, but nothing else. YOU made the decision to have a child."

"Be reasonable," said Trillian.

"I am!" said Andema, "And you know what? You are a _horrible_ mother." She glared at Trillian, then walked over to Random.

"So, how do we get out of this hole?" said Zaphod.

"Activate the weird sound generator!" cried Malea, pumping her fist into the air.

"Vomit!" shouted Andema.

"Vomit?"

"Vomit," said Andema firmly.

"That's not a weird sound," said Malea.

"BIWSOSSACA!" went the weird sound generator. Everyone was beamed up to the control deck. Including Ford, who was no longer a penguin, but was twisted very awkwardly to the side, his head in his satchel.

"Great!" said Ford, sounding muffled, "I'm Betelguesian again! But I may have eaten my towel…" He unwound himself.

"Andema!" he said happily, and kissed her. Random scowled.

"I think he's been trying to find an excuse to do that for the last six stories," said Arthur.

"No fair!" said Zaphod, "**I** wanted the first onscreen kiss!" He kissed Trillian.

Clap, apparently thinking very hard about something, left the room. Arthur looked around. Ford and Andema were still kissing and Zaphod…looked as if he was trying to start something else with Trillian.

"Ew," said Random, "Get a room!" She crawled off to be alone. This left Malea and Arthur. Malea was grinning.

"Don't look at me!" said Arthur.

"I wasn't," said Malea.

"You weren…oh…well, er, I, good then," said Arthur, slightly let-down. Malea sat down on the floor and began to read. Arthur glanced at Zaphod and Trillian, quickly glanced away again, and left, in search of tea.

Clap, somewhere else, was still thinking very hard. Finally, she took something out of her pocket, and looked at it. Coming to a decision, she threw it over her shoulder.

It exploded.

THE END

_Hooray! Today's my birthday! I'm 16!_

_On a more angry and ranting note, I'd like to draw attention to a review I got for chapter sixteen, ironically. It reads as follows._

_menoslashy  
2005-08-20  
ch 16, anon:_

_Slash,again? EW! _

Cav't anybody write anything WITHOUT having Arthur and Ford being romantically/sexually involved with eachother?  
Does no one enjoy HET anymore?

_Now, I may not be that smart…actually, scratch that. Did this person even READ the story._

_Tell me, my readers, did you think Chapter 16 was ROOTING for slashers? Actually, I don't think Ford/Arthur is possible at all. That was the Whole Point of the chapter._

_Seriously, guys, you have to tell me: Did you think I was being serious?_

_Ah well. So, now I'm going to blabber on about this chapter. My God, it took me so very long to write._

_First thing you need to know, this was written WAY before the movie, before I even knew it was coming out. So, no, the Random bits are not taking a stab at the interesting Arthur/Trillian relationship that happened in the movie. I just can't figure it out, is all._

_Also, "Aurther" is quite possibly the funniest misspelling of Arthur that I have ever seen. Ever._

_Malea is much less crazy in this one than she is in all the others. A bit of an accident on my part. She also used to be kickass as well, but I decided that no matter how different from my original self I became, I still wouldn't ever be kickass. So there you go._

_Hope you noticed, I made a big effort to cut down on Ford's airtime, and beef up the Trillian and Zaphod airtime. Especially Trillian. Although, I do think I rather borrowed the bartender from the Librarian in Discworld. Ah well. Sorry, Terry._

_Also, I really like the TV show version Zaphod, mostly because he actually CAN talk to himself._

_Zaphod having a banjo is sort of copied from Penny/Graham Chapman's stories. Sorry Penny._

_And Clap scares the hell out of me. Only time it's ever happened with one of my own characters._

_Oh, and don't get me wrong, I think Zaphod's a pretty lifty guy. I just don't think we'd ever get along well in real life. And Arthur doesn't LIKE Malea, he's just feeling left-out. And he'd like for someone to notice him._

_Even if they're crazy like Malea._

_Also, Andema's rant belongs to me. Man, Trillian really annoyed me in Mostly Harmless. That's mainly why I can't see an Arthur/Trillian relationship._

_And Andema's obsession with vomit? It's from real life. Marion is obsessed with Farscape, and Farscape is apparently obsessed with vomit. I wouldn't know. I've never watched it._

_Jimmy the Gothic Egg: Oh he will. And Clap will be glad to know that she's kind of cool. And thank you for the reassurances._

_Saith Rayse: Surprising…Especially as Zaphod only told one joke! ;) Ah well. Good to know._

_BeatlesLover: By not really…sleeping, and things. Lunch is a crazy time. And the Zaphod fic? Yeah…after I finish up typing the remaining…12 or so stories, I might._

_Fellowship of the Band Geeks: I shall._

_menoslashy: I believe I've already yelled at you._

_DemonDancer13:_ _Maybe I should try to get in the Guinness book of World Records._

_Trillian4210: Thanks._

_Nine of Swords: Ha! Your abdominals will have to suffer!_

_Lily Knotwise: Malea was the only one laughing because you weren't there, OBVIOUSLY. Oh yeah? Well, you're deader than I am. And…eh. Never mind._

_nasamuffin: You know what? That makes a lot more sense. And now that entry isn't quite so… anonymous. Thank you. And, no worries, already got a plan in mind. For your story. Oh, and if I remembered what Sweet Cuppin' Cakes was, I might know if it actually was in the story. It's…from Homestar Runner, right?_

_The next story will probably be shorter, if only for the sake of my poor fingers. I'll have to cut bits, yeah?_


	22. The Chapter With the Really Long Title

7.071067812…Squared Gherkins + 1 Aquatic Vertebrate With The Ability To Extract Oxygen From Water Via Gills

"No, really, I have sheaths for everything," said Clap.

"Show me," said Ford. Clap opened her coat, which was lined with different leather sheaths. Then her vest. Then she pointed out her boots.

"I call them George," she said.

"Why?" said Malea.

"Because they all have 'George' embroidered on them."

"That's the strangest sheath I've ever seen," said Ford, pointing. Clap looked.

"It's a grabbo-claw," she said, unsheathing it. It was a fairly typical grabbo claw.

"What's that for?" asked Malea. Clap reached forward with the claw and grabbed Ford's arm.

"Argh! I've been grabboed," he said. Then his eyes went wide and he collapsed.

"Whoa, that's surprisingly effective," said Malea.

"He'll be awake by tomorrow," said Clap.

"I've just had an idea," said Andema, walking in, "Let's have a kareoke contest!"

Malea dove under a table.

"I grabboed Ford," said Clap, "Did you notice?" She thought it would be funny to see Andema's reaction. Except that Andema wasn't listening.

"So, what about the kareoke?" said Andema.

"I can think of so many reasons against that," said Malea, her voice muffled due to her arms being clasped over her head.

"Ford is on the floor," stated Clap, "As I grabboed him."

"Kareoke seems pretty innocent to me," said Andema.

"It's not," said Malea.

"Oh. Fine the…"

"And you know why?"

"I said…"

"Ford Is Unconscious Because Of Me," said Clap slowly and pointedly.

"The reason kareoke is evil," said Malea, "is because of the effect it will have on this ship. I can tell you exactly what will happen."

"I don't particularly care."

"First," said Malea, ignoring Andema entirely, "You'll sing your song, which in the spirit of all kareoke stories will end up being some sort of love song to Ford. Maybe even Whitney Houston."

"That wasn't what I was intending."

"Look At Ford!" said Clap.

"Secondly," said Malea, "Zaphod will come up and sing something like 'I'm Too Sexy' or else something like 'Born To Be Wild'. Then I'd come up and sing something Beatles related, or maybe I'm Going Slightly Mad."

"Andema," said Clap, "Look at Ford!"

"Then after being pressured by the others," said Malea, "Arthur would go up and sing something also Beatles related but quite badly. Probably The Long and Winding Road. Then Clap would push him out of the way and sing… I Shot the Sheriff, with some liberties taken on the lyrics. Or possibly Happiness is a Warm Gun."

"The Beatles feature heavily in this kareoke tournament," said Andema dryly.

"The Beatles are lifty," said Malea, "But anyways… Then Ford would go up and sing some Generic British Techno 80's Group song, while at the same time making Arthur very nervous about Ford's sexual orientation."

"Except not," said Andema.

"Sorry, but we ARE talking about a typical kareoke fic. And if there's one thing other than stupid drama that fanficcers like to work in, it's a homosexual relationship. Um, so probably You Spin Me Right Round, with appropriate dance moves. Hilarity ensues."

"Argh!" said Clap, unsheathing what turned out to be a cardboard tube. She bonked Andema on the head with it at each word she said.

"Why Won't You Listen I Knocked Ford Out With A Grabbo Claw!"

"And then everyone would laugh at Arthur and Trillian would make Random sing, and she'd sing something by some obscure alien artist that no-one but Zaphod would recognise. Then Trillian would sing…um…"

"That really doesn't hurt," said Andema. Clap looked at the tube.

"Hmm… You're probably right."

"She'd sing…nothing! We'd try to make her sing but she wouldn't. And then everyone would laugh again and go eat something." Clap was looking puzzled.

"How long have you been figuring that out for?" said Andema.

"A while…"

"And I still don't know why you don't want to do the contest," said Andema, "Even if it does turn out like you said, that sounds like fun."

"Er…"

"So…" said Clap, "Does this hurt, then?" BANG.

"Aargh! Yes! My arm!"

"I knew it would, eventually," said Clap triumphantly.

"That…ngaaa…wasn't even fair! You shot me!" said Andema.

"That's death!" said Clap cheerfully, "Oh dear, I meant life, didn't I."

"That's it!" said Andema. She pulled out her other gun and rolled sideways, shooting.

Malea nervously crawled out from under the table, dodged some gunfire and a thrown dagger, and ran out the door. She continued to run, as far away from the room as she thought necessary. Finally, she stopped, mostly because of the white stairs emerging from the ceiling. And the annoying twanging noises coming from said ceiling.

"What _is_ that?" said Arthur, "I was trying to sleep, and it kept waking me up."

"If you go up and check, I'll give you a really important piece of information."

"All right, what?"

"Don't go down the hall I was just in: Andema and Clap are shooting things." And with that, she ran away. Arthur began to climb the stairs to the attic. The twanging sounds, he now realised, came from a guitar. He reached the top, and stepped onto the wooden floorboards.

Sitting on faded armchairs, in a corner, were his daughter and a rather stylish blond man Arthur had never seen before. Oh well. He supposed now would be a good time to be a father. Now, what was he expected to say…

"Hello, Random," he said tentatively, "Er… learning the guitar?" Random was, indeed, holding a guitar.

"Yeah," said Random, effectively shutting him down. Damn. Some sort of father instinct he didn't know he had flared up.

"Er…and who is this…man you're with?" He had originally wanted to say 'young man', but the other man looked like he was in his mid-to-late 20's.

"Oh my god, dad," said Random, "Why do you have to invade in my life?"

"Er…" said Arthur. It seemed to be the applicable word for the situation.

"I'll introduce myself," said the blond man, in a rather strong Welsh accent, "My name is Howell Pendragon." A spark of defiance rose in the babbling, confused mess that was currently Arthur.

"And what, exactly, are you doing with my daughter?" Arthur said in what he thought were steely tones, but actually came out as a strangled nasal sound. Random writhed with teenage embarrassment.

"I was teaching your _daughter_ the guitar," said Howell, managing to sound sarcastic.

"Oh?" said Arthur, grasping for an argument, "Then…why did it sound so awful?"

'Daaas!" wailed random.

"She is a beginner," said Howell firmly. This seemed to end the conversation.

"Well…well…fine then. I'll just, er, leave you to your guitaring then," said Arthur, backing down the stairs. He began to walk down the hall that led to the gunfight, corrected himself, and walked in the opposite direction.

Back in the attic, Howell and Random were probably kissing. Arthur really wasn't very experienced at the fathering business.

Howell wasn't very experienced at the guitar. He had been making most of the twanging noises.

"Noodles!" said Zaphod.

"No!" said Trillian.

"Yes!"

"No! I am not making noodles!"

"Why not!"

"Because I've already started on chicken, and a meal can't be all one colour!"

"That's a stupid concept. Noodles!"

"Shouting 'noodles' at me will not make me make them!"

"Oo," said Arthur, and left. The kitchen was a strange place.

"Can't you dye the chicken purple or something?"

"No."

"…"

"…"

"Noodles!"

"No!"

"Argh!"

"You'll never take me alive!" said Clap, which was silly, because she was winning. Andema gritted her teeth and aimed another shot. Clap delicately kicked the gun out of her hand.

"I Win," she said softly, and walked away. 30 seconds later, she came back in and began to dig the bullet out of Andema's arm.

"What?" said Andema.

"Well, it would have ruined the effect if I had helped you right after I said 'I Win'."

"But…weren't we fighting?"

"Of course not," said Clap, sounding perplexed, "We were just having some fun. A game."

"Right…" said Andema, looking at her various wounds, "A game…"

"Are you actually a wizard?" asked Random. Howell smiled.

"Yes, of course, I'll show you." He muttered some words, made some hand motions and disappeared. Forever. Random cried, and went off to sulk.

"I won too easily," said Howell, when he got home.

"I can't believe you went to a different world to flirt," said Calcifer.

THE END

_I can't believe they let someone as unbalanced as Clap into the Galactic Police. They must have very low standards._

_Howell is from the lovely book Howl's Moving Castle by the brilliant Diana Wynne Jones. And not, I must stress, from the movie of the same name. Different character entirely._

_I have read SO many bad kareoke fics, you can't even begin to imagine. So, that's my analysis of a Fragments kareoke fic. Tell me how accurate you think it is, I long for attention. ;)_

_Cause, dude! I have over 100 reviews! I love you guys!_

_Saith Rayse: I sincerely hope you're making fun of Random. Oh, Random. You're such a stereotypical teenager. No worries about the attention span. I'm about the same. It's really long because I kept losing inspiration to write it, and then coming back until it became like, 5 fics in one._

_Nine of Swords: Yeah…I'm actually serious sometimes…Go figure._

_nasamuffin: I love Strong Bad emails… But, actually, no inspiration from that whatsoever. It's just a really dramatic thing to shout. Also, you're my 100th reviewer/balloons/_

_Fellowship of the Band Geeks: Neat! Um, Trillian is cool, but she's hard to write for me because of her seriousness. I try, though. Man, she's hardly in this one… I like the idea of her cooking occasionally, though. It's funny. Probably therapeutic._

_BeatlesLover: Thanks. I'm glad you thought so. Or, er, didn't think so… Anyhoo, I AM trying to balance it out. Ford is pretty much my favourite character to write, so I overuse him everywhere else. So I've been trying to use him slightly less. Or, had been trying, when I wrote these. So, as you may notice, he's not really in this one either. I think he's a bit more in the next one, and a LOT more in the next next one. Look forward to Ford getting a posse in the next next one. And, I knew you were a girl…So there! And, I'm afraid not everyone loves the Beatles. In my Grade 6 class, it was cool to hate them, and I was so OUT. Although, I've never really been in the in crowd anyways…_

_Lily Knotwise: Thanks Ringo! Whoo Beatles and Gorillaz too! Um, finding out how many I've written would actually require looking. Can we say in total, an estimate of 35?_

_Rogue-of-Fortune: Complying._

_Robotic. Answer. Beep._

_Exterminate._


	23. This Place

This Place has everything except for women, bars, and illegal drugs

"No!" screamed Ford, "My day is ruined!"

"Cheer up," said Andema.

"Nooooo!" said Ford, much more dramatically.

"I…have a plan," said Clap equally dramatically, speaking to the camera. She somersaulted into the room and bounded to her feet in front of Andema.

"Do we have to do this?" sighed Andema. Clap glared.

"Well, fine," said Andema, "Ha HA! Clap Writer! You will never foil my _(nonexistent)_ plans!"

"Oho!" said Clap, "Yes I Will!"

"But How?"

"Why are you speaking in capitals?" said Arthur, but everyone ignored him, including Ford, who seemed to be having an identity crisis.

"I have a secret weapon," Clap stated importantly.

"Ha HA!" said Andema, who couldn't think of anything else to say.

"And here it is!" said Clap, sounding moderately annoyed. She leaned closer.

"Reginald Stubbins." Andema immediately thought of 'The World is Mine!', burst into laughter and fell over.

"Reginald Stubbins!" said Clap, "REGINALD STUBBINS!" Andema was still laughing.

"**REGINALD STUBBINS**!" screamed Clap, pleased that her plan was going so well.

"What?" said Reginald Stubbins.

THE END

_I'd forgotten I'd written this one. It was in my ugly ol' pink book._

_Um, and I forgot to mention that the title of my last story was a reference to a story by Penny, which is quite good actually, if you can figure it out._

_Um, so, the title of this story is from a documentary I watched last year on submarines. And the voice-over lady made that comment, obviously trying to be funny, and it so wasn't, that it was._

_If you can figure that out, the Ford Gets Drunk chapter probably made sense too._

_Marion actually laughs like that whenever I mention Reginald Stubbins._

_Also, I've changed the name of the story. I realized I was always calling it Fragments OF a Diseased Mind in my head, so that's just what it's called now to reduce confusingness for me._

_I may change my OWN username soon. I mean, my most popular story is science fiction…y. So FantasyLovingFreak…not too accurate._

_Lily Knotwise: It's…probably true…_

_nasamuffin: AAaargwannawannaaaagongongonaargggaaaaBLOON!_

_Fellowship of the Band Geeks: Er, you caught me. Actually, the chapter entitled Grabbo was supposed to be the one directly after it, but I thought of a different story halfway through it, and decided not to change the names. Sorry to hear that. Um, I hope you like my new ones. Well, I say new, but really I mean "ones that have been written for months and months and just haven't been typed up yet"._

_Don't you miss the days when my chapters were just "(Character from book) (action word) (silly thing)"? I do._


	24. Vesting the Clergy

Vesting the Clergy

"No, really, you have to tell me about your past," said Ford. Andmea had run out of sci-fi pasts to steal.

"Why do you want to know anyway?" she said instead.

"Because I have the right to know."

"Not actually."

"Hmm. This is very cumbersome," said Ford, waving around a cucumber.

"I don't think that's the proper application of the word," said Andema slowly.

"Okay, bye everyone," said Malea loudly, "I'm off to visit The Beatles."

"You know, I don't think you are," said Andema, "you've been saying that for the last half hour."

"Well, now I am then," said Malea, and left.

"I'm sick and tired of being ignored," said Zaphod, "You're all a bunch of…"

"That joke is getting old," said Arthur.

"No-one asked you," said Zaphod, "I wanted to go on that other thing you went on but I didn't."

"Let's go to a bar, then," said Ford.

"Great!" said Zaphod.

"If you do, I'm not coming," said Andema, "I know what you're like when you're drunk."

"What?" said Ford, "Aren't you going to be paranoid and stop me from hanging out with other girls?"

"I've decided that I don't care about that anymore," said Andema, "I see no reason to be clingy. I can always go find a new boyfriend in that portal we found in the laundry room."

"So THAT'S why all my socks disappeared," said Zaphod.

"The new boyfriend wouldn't be as good as me," said Ford, "Clap's relationship with Jack Sparrow only lasted a week."

"I don't blame him," said Arthur quietly, leaning back on his crutches. Clap had shot him in the leg. Again.

"These stories never go anywhere," said Trillian, who was there randomly, a practice she had become adept at.

"Hey, what about the bar!" said Zaphod.

THE END ("No, wait! Argh!")

_Guys, I have school and homework and karate and stuff, and on top of that, I'm a procrastinator and I hate typing. So there._

_Oh, and by the way, I am truly sorry for this story. The next one is way better. Really. This one only really makes sense if you read the Unprinted Story on my Livejournal, which is unprinted because I can't fanfiction about The Beatles until they all die off._

_And holy crap, man. You know how many reviews I've had in my other stories, possibly in total? 10! Dude, you guys are the best. Maybe, if I write for long enough, I'll start my own cult. Woo!_

_Fellowship of the Band Geeks: I've discovered something. I can never repeat myself. And currently, I have writer's block. Well, sort of, anyways. I mean, stories will continue to "magically" appear. Also, you win. You read Penny/Clap's stuff! Go you! Maybe she'll get out of her writer's block eventually too!_

_Jimmy the Gothic Egg: Awww. 'hugs back'_

_Lily Knotwise: If my memory does not deceive me, it was called Fragments FROM A Diseased Mind, and it took me until whenever my last chapter came out to realise that._

_nasamuffin: TOAST POKE!_

_BeatlesLover: Yeah! In people suck! Note-if someone here is "in", please disregard this. I love you. Don't stop reviewing me. Nevertheless, I listen to a lot of different music, and try to be open to everything, although I must admit that I am a little biased against heavy metal and rap… Yeah. So…Right! So sorry about the confusion involved in me using the word lifty. It was invented by my friend Penny and I always forget that not everyone has read her story. So, here's the definition Penny includes in her story_

The origin of the word 'lifty' comes from oven mitts, the word lifty meaning 'really cool and together guy' (the more literal translation being 'has a warm chicken and/or head'). For example, in a sentence, you the word would be used like so: Do you sass that hoopy frood, Ford Prefect? That guy is really lifty and always knows where his towel is and his oven mitt too.

_There. Now, read the story. Read it! Graham Chapman! Go!_

_Oh wait. There's more stuff I need to explain. Okay. Reginald Stubbins first appearance was in Chapter 12: Arthur Receives a Death Sentence. He ran through at the end, thus spawning a very long private joke with my friends. There you go. Also, the purpose isn't for you to understand them. At least…I didn't think it was._

_Beth: Yay! New fan! Well, when you get here, hi. Or wait, are you a fan, or just sympathetic to my insane state? No matter._

_Wtf…: LOL OMG! Thanks._

_Guardian Demon: Yes! I know I'd be exploding in fangirlish glee if I found one of my favourite characters in a fic unexpectedly. Well, more characters cameo eventually, I think. And thank you. I like to know I'm in character, because it makes me feel special. Much more than the time I wrote this story and then my dad said it wasn't good enough yet. Which made me sad, but I'm trying to get into my school's literary magazine, so, neh. And dude, I'm using you as my LiveJournal. Not cool. __Little middly words don't matter. Notice, it took me until now to, er, notice. _

Minor God: You sound cool. I want to totally be your friend. Except that I don't, nor never expect, to end up in England, although I desperately want to. Ah well. Cute poems. Although, my version of Arthur probably just would have ended up panicking at the end, then pressing the Improbability Drive button.

MaidM: Well, you WERE the first made-up character to feature, so it's only natural you get the first onscreen kiss.

Nine of Swords: I'm accurate! Huzzah!

Crry : Thanks, but what do you mean by "HIGH"?

I can write songs! Maybe I should write a story that's a song!


	25. Ford Joins a Group of Rebel Scientists

Ford Joins a Group of Rebel Scientists

"Ford," said Arthur, who was cleaning out his bathrobe pockets, "What are you doing to my wall?"

"Nothing," said Ford. He had put grease in his hair and was wearing black leather pants and a long white lab coat.

"Yes you are," said Arthur, "You're spray painting on my wall."

"Well if you knew, why did you ask?" said Ford, sounding annoyed. Arthur thought about a plausible answer and pulled a toothbrush out of his pocket, followed by a large amount of fluff.

"What I really meant was 'why'," he said finally.

"Why what?"

"Why are you spray painting my wall?" said Arthur, exasperated.

"Because," said Ford, "The galaxy needs to know!"

"Know what!" said Arthur. Ford shook his head sadly at him, and left. Arthur looked at Ford's handiwork. The wall now said "SULPHUR" in large, electric blue letters.

"I don't suppose it washes off…" said Arthur. He went back to his pockets and found the thing that his aunt gave him that he didn't know what it was. He spent a minute trying to figure it out, and failed.

Half an hour later, Ford came back into the room.

"By the way, I've changed my name."

"To what?" said Arthur, "Mitsubishi Guts?"

"No, actually," said Ford. Arthur shrugged and continued to sort his loose change.

"My name," said Ford dramatically, "Is now Phord." Arthur squinted at him.

"Ppphhhhord," said Ford pointedly.

"That's what your name is now," said Arthur, speaking slowly as if Ford was a very small child, "If you go through the trouble of changing your name, you should at least change it to something different. If I were going to change my name, which I'm not, I would change it to Dennis, which is a completely different name from Arthur. There's no point in changing your name to the same thing."

"You're not listening to me," said Ford.

"Yes I am," said Arthur, "You said: 'I've changed my name' and I said: 'To what?' and you said: 'To Ford. Ffffffffford.'"

"Not to Ford," said Ford, "to Phord." He wrote "PHORD" on the wall with charcoal.

"Stop writing on my wall!" said Arthur agitatedly. Ford left again.

"Ford," said Andema, "What are you doing with that enormous block of potassium?"

"I can't tell you," said Ford, "Besides, I have a new girlphriend now. Her name is Phoebe."

"Excuse me!" said Andema, "You're just going to dump me?"

"I'm a rebel scientist now," said Ford, "and you aren't liphty enough to sass me."

"Ohhhh, you're gonna get it," said Andema and went off to find Clap. Ford went off to find Phoebe.

"Do you know what's the hip new thing?" said Zaphod, pushing his hair forward around his faces in what he thought was a rakish manner. And he was right. Zaphod was always right in instances of coolness. Except for the one time when he had misanalysed a situation, and had shown up for his galactic presidential duties in a green and beige striped umbrella hat. It had ended up in all the newspapers. _President Beeblebrox Wears Something Not Totally Cool! _This, luckily, had been before Zaphod met Trillian, and he spent every day making sure she didn't find out.

"No, tell me!" burbled Eddie in response to Zaphod's question. He knew the answer, of course, being a computer, but his cheerful pre-programmed nature evaluated all popular reactions and decided that Zaphod was asking a rhetorical question and would prefer to be asked than answered. This complicated function took an incredible amount of power from the ship at one time. All of Arthur's lights went out and he walked into a wall, as anyone even slightly clumsy automatically does when the lights go out. This was highly skilled on his part, as he was sitting down. A door shut on Trillian's arm, making her drop her favourite glass. Zaphod, however, noticed none of this.

"Shoving graham crackers up your nose," he said, "We need to go somewhere we can get them."

"Righty-o!" said Eddie elatedly. A sudden, huge explosion rocked the ship. A jet of flame shot through the door and scorched Zaphod's jacket.

"Agh!" said Zaphod, "My Froomian Sploo!"

Trillian, very carefully, managed to extract her arm from the door, just as the power went back on and the door opened. She angrily picked up the remains of her favourite cup. Arthur had walked directly into the still-drying paint and now had a large, electric blue 9 on his forehead.

"Clap," said Andema, "I need you to help me take revenge on Ford."

"Torture," said Clap promptly.

"No!" said Andema, "Don't you have anything that's just humiliating?"

"Yes, I know," she said before Clap could speak again, "'Pain is scary'. I just…grah!" Clap nodded, understanding perfectly and ran off.

"Hoopy," said Ford, looking at the still flaming potassium remains on the other side of the large room.

"Hydratic!" said one of the members of his gang. He was rather tall, with brown hair and glasses. He went by the name of Phelix.

"Wanna go break the Law of Conservation of Matter?" Phoebe asked, clinging to Ford's shoulder and flipping back her shocking green hair.

"Or of gravity!" said Phred eagerly. He was the youngest member of the group: somewhere in his late teens. He was not Betelguesian, unlike Phelix, Ford and Phoebe. He was a Scordan, which meant that he was covered with a fine layer of purple fur with darker purple for his eyebrows and shoulder length hair.

"That's SO untubed," said Phoebe dismissively. Phonebooth, the female Jubanese member of the group, bit her tongue in confusion. As a Juban, she was the ideal alien, skinny and tall with a proportionately larger head. Her eyes were large and a glowing green, and her skin was a smooth greenish grey. Even humans knew the Jubanese, although not by name, because they were as a race, slender, and therefore, ideal for modelling purposes. They were also, however, Earth's natural enemies, because of their unusual language. It was, in fact, English used in an entirely different way. The most harmless and usual sentences in English translated into the most shocking and horrendous statements in Jubanese, and vice versa. This was the reason so many Earth people are abducted by aliens: they somehow insulted the Juban.

"Three angry mole rats bought a house?" said Phonebooth. ENGLISH: _Untubed?_ Phonebooth could understand some English but preferred to speak in Jubanese. This caused a large amount of confusion for everyone except Ford, who knew how to speak Jubanese.

"What a stupid question," said Ford. ENGLISH: _It means uncool._

"Why, what'd she say?" said Phred. Phoebe cuffed him. Phred rolled himself into a small purple ball and sulked.

"So, are we going to break the Law of Conservation of Matter?" said Phelix.

"Yes," said Ford and turned a pickle he was holding into a rose. He gave it to Phoebe.

"Oh, how sweet!" said Phoebe. She sniffed it.

"It still smells like a pickle."

"Want to go explode some more things?" segued Ford. Phonebooth bit her tongue in confusion. She did this quite a lot, because it was a real struggle for her to understand English. For her, the last conversation had looked like this.

Phonebooth: Untubed?

Ford: It means uncool.

Phred: 'Whoops' went the eggs for no apparent reason as they were separated?

Phelix: By the egg separator?

Ford: Jelly babies.

Phoebe: What erasers these fish be. Why do the cats attack the lined sheets.

Ford: Who is eating my pumpkin blimp?

Phonebooth tried very hard to understand.

"Wahha!" said Clap, and swung into the room on the cord of an eggbeater. With a large black marker, she drew an "F" on Ford's forehead, then swung away.

"I'm SO embarrassed," said Ford.

"You can't play with me any more," said Phoebe and ran away crying.

"Wow," said Phred, uncurling, "**That** had double meanings." Phoebe ran in and hit him with a sponge.

"Stop _doing_ that!" said Phred, and went all spiky.

"You look like a plastic hedgehog," said Phelix.

"Only…not," said Ford.

"Eddie…" said Zaphod.

"Yes?" said Eddie.

"Why aren't we getting graham crackers yet?"

"We're going right now!" Eddie enthused.

In Arthur's room, several sacks of graham crackers fell into the room from nowhere. Arthur glanced at them, opened one sack and began to eat.

"Give me that!" shouted Malea, running after Reginald Stubbins.

"Never!" shouted Reginald Stubbins, hugging the globe to his chest.

Andema walked up to Ford and pointed at him.

"HA!" she said, then walked away.

"I'm SO embarrassed," Ford repeated.

"Fishstick," said Phonebooth sympathetically.

THE END

_I think it's terribly ironic how I keep ending these stories with THE END. All right. Pretend, for the sake of really bad clichés that I ended this story with THE BEGINNING. Ner._

_Oh man, I can't keep a straight face for that._

_Okay, so, this one has a very blatant tribute to the Hitchhiker's Guide text computer game. It's so wacky. I can't beat it. It's really hard, and I've never been very good with text-based adventure games because I can never find the right commands. But it's still awesome._

_The entire inspiration for this story came from the discovery that a bunch of scientists decided that the proper way to spell sulphur was actually 'sulfur' and that everyone should spell it like that. Then, whilst talking with my friends, we decided that there was a small group of rebel scientists, who fought the power by continuing to spell sulphur with a 'ph'. And they'd go around, you know, breaking scientific laws and pouring water on blocks of potassium. Man, I've ALWAYS wanted to do that. Make a huge, fiery explosion. That would be so fun._

_Oh, I forgot. The Jubanese belong entirely to Penny. Great invention, Penny. It's practically a license to be weird and incoherent. And, I took a stab at the singular form of Jubanese, and came up with Juban, so if I'm wrong, tell me._

_Mitsubishi Guts is an actual car name. Oh, those wacky Japanese. Or, you know, wherever Mitsubishi is from. Ford Prefect is such a wacky name for a car. But I still want one. That would be so awesome, it's not even funny. Except that it is. Oh well._

_Also, I put a quote in, but I'm not going to bother to say what it is, or where it's from. See if you can figure it out. And, of course, anyone I actually know is exempt from this contesty-type-thing._

_Saith Rayse: This one is longer… You can always tell which ones I had writer's block on. They're generally quite short. And…wait. Heaven's Hell? I was of the opinion it was only Hell's Hell. And, because I never intend to sequel my Math story, I might as well say it here. You CAN'T convert 3X + 15Y + 34 into a pair of binomials. At least, not in grade 10 math. The X would need to be squared, at least. And the Y can't exist unless you square it as well and add an X&Y to the 34. Which, by the way, is a rather brilliant Coldplay album. However, in Grade 11 math, I'm sure you can do it, using square roots a lot. I just don't feel like it right now. Oh, the blasted imaginary numbers. How you haunt me. Hmmm… Maybe I should do another one with THEM…_

_Jimmy the Gothic Egg: Random is good. And yes, I am Canadian. Woo, Canada!_

_nasamuffin: Well **I** didn't burninate it. Blame Trogdor._

_Lily Knotwise: How would Satan spawn math? It's unsubstantial. And it acts as a foundation to many factors of life, so he certainly couldn't have created it. But, yes. The pigs were awesome. And so are you._

_Guardian Demon: I don't know what they're called either. And the literary magazine? I missed the deadline. Neh. I'll be ready by the next one, and if I'm not, it doesn't matter. I can just make my story into a screenplay for Playwriting._

_MaidM: Yeah, okay. If I, you know, LOSE MY FRICKIN' WRITER'S BLOCK! ARGH! That said, I hope I'm not grounded for your kareoke party OH so much. SO much!_

_Cap'n Scoff: Woo, groupie! Awesome! Feel free._

_BeatlesLover: Yes! Captain Jack Sparrow! Himself! And, you'd think requesting another Penny story would be easy, as we go to the same school, but she, like myself, is also having a horrendous bout with writer's block. I promise, if she writes anything more, I'll bug her until she posts it. Zaphod will want to steal all these socks you've been rocking in._

_LandUnderWave: No. Dude, I'm glad you read my stories, but you missed the boat. You didn't read the instructions well enough, and I'm not reneging on my threat. So, no, sorry, I'm not putting you in. Erm…but…is your name from Terry Pratchett's Tiffany books? Wee Free Men?_

_hacknslash: Okay._

_Kyre-JMK-Storm Dragon: But of course. Just credit me with coming up with it, okay? Right-ho._

_So, there. A bunch of new characters. Huzzah!_


	26. Something Nice Happens to Arthur

Something Nice Happens to Arthur

"So… what is a cation then?" said Phred.

"And you call yourself a rebel scientist," scoffed Ford.

"So?"

"Isn't it a…" began Phelix.

"Sshh," said Ford. He was in a bad mood and felt like he needed to prove himself. Phoebe had left him after seeing the humiliating F on his forehead and he currently lacked a girlfriend. Andema wouldn't talk to him except to stop, point at him and say "HA!" Clap kept up a steady stream of mildly harmful pranks. Malea seemed to be interested in Phred for unknown reasons. And he'd insulted Phonebooth after forgetting whom he was talking to and asking her to please pass the salt. Now she thought he was dangerously insane and was staying a long way away.

"A cation," said Ford, "Is a positive metal cat."

"Er, I don't think that's quite right," said Phelix.

"Well, why don't YOU tell him then?" said Ford.

"I tried to," said Phelix, "but you wouldn't let me." Ford threw up his hands in disgust, and left.

Arthur was staring morosely at his Babel fish, which he had removed from his ear and placed in his dolphin-bowl. He couldn't see what use it was recently. Everyone he felt like talking to spoke English, or something remotely like it. Besides, he had recently lost faith in his fish after trying to hold a conversation with Phonebooth.

"When you put that back in, you should put these in also," said Ford, holding out a plate of chips that smelt strongly of vinegar.

"What, in my ear?"

"Yes. It will make it translate better."

"I'm not shoving a plate of chips in my ear!"

"Not the plate," Ford said patiently, "Just the chips."

"That's disgusting!" said Arthur. He thoughtfully dropped a chip into the fish bowl. The fish continued to swim, unperturbed.

"Well," said Ford, "I've run out of things to do." Arthur clutched his fishbowl in anticipation.

"You know," said Ford conversationally, "You have nice…"

"Thanksbye," said Arthur, running into his room and locking the door. Ford sighed, and added Arthur to his list of People He Couldn't Ask To Be His Girl(ph)riend/Boy(ph)riend.

Meanwhile, somewhere else, Malea saw what Clap was wearing, and stared.

"I don't get it." Clap looked down, then up again.

"What's not to get?" Clap was wearing a black lacy tank-top thing over a royal blue T-shirt.

"Your clothing," said Malea, then hesitantly, "It's…interesting." Clap looked down and up. Down and up. Down and up. Smiled. Pulled out a gun and carefully shot Malea in the foot.

"Ow," said Malea, tipping over. She said this with quite a lot more expression than is allowed for on paper. "But it is…interesting."

"Why are you pausing?" said Clap suspiciously.

"Er…"said Malea, "…I'm going to the sickbay." She left, very, very slowly.

Clap looked down and up.

"Well **I** like it!"

Zaphod sat in the room with the sullen teenaged girl that he was in no way related, or beholden to. Trillian was operating the ship for the first time in a week, and had somehow managed to give him the task of babysitting Random. She had apparently chosen him because Andema had guilted her into not giving Arthur the job.

Damn Arthur. If he weren't Random's dad, Zaphod would have no trouble coming onto her. As is, he didn't even really want to speak to her. It would count as a point in monkey-man's favour.

Anyhow, he could at least outsulk her. He coolly stared off into the distance, pacifying himself with Trillian's promised sex. She had done so rather impatiently and anxiously, trying to get Random off of her hands.

"My mum would probably sell me if the price was high enough," said Random suddenly (or Randomly).

"Yeah, probably," said Zaphod, trying to shut her down. It didn't work.

"Aren't you going to defend her? She's YOUR girlfriend," said Random.

"True," said Zaphod.

"'True' what?" said Random, "'True' she's your girlfriend? 'True' you'll defend her?"

"Yes," said Zaphod, putting on a pair of his peril-sensitive sunglasses. He was surprised the lenses weren't black. This situation seemed pretty perilous to him.

"'Yes' what?" said Random.

"'Yes' I would like a drink right about now," said Zaphod, "Now will you prasc it?"

"Shut up yourself," said Random, equally as rudely.

"Listen, kid," said Zaphod, looking over the top of his sunglasses, even though one of his heads wasn't wearing any sunglasses and could see her perfectly well.

"I'm not a kid," said Random.

"Listen, not-a-kid," said Zaphod, "I'm in charge here, okay? So you have to shut up because you're starting to give me headaches."

"What, is this a dictatorship?" said Random.

"Yes," said Zaphod, pleased that she'd grasped it so quickly. He wouldn't have expected it from a kid of Arthur's.

"What happened to all your speeches on peace and free love?" said Random.

"They only apply to me, baby."

"The speeches, or the…"

"Prasc it!"

Only HE was allowed to question everything, Zaphod thought angrily. Then along comes this girl who thinks her generation is better than his.

"I used to idolise you," said Random, "But now I can see you're just a hypocrite."

"You know what?" said Zaphod angrily, "You're totally uncool."

"Ditto," said Random.

"Right, that's it!" said Zaphod. He stomped over to the door, opened it, stomped out, and slammed the door.

"Hey Clap," he shouted, "Clap!" Clap ran up.

"What? Need me to kill someone again?"

"Not exactly. I…hey, nice shirts."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, so, I need you to do the same thing you're doing to Ford, to Random."

"Okay, awesome."

"Oh, and don't tell Trillian."

"It's a deal," said Clap. She pressed herself beside the doorway to wait until Random came out. Zaphod ran away, suppressing his urge to giggle in case any hot girls were around. Ford walked past.

"Oh, hey Clap," he said, "Are you sure you won't go out with me?"

"It's a lot more fun playing pranks on you," said Clap.

"Oh well," said Ford. He was asking all of his prospective partners over again, just in case they'd changed their minds. He walked until he came to Andema's room, then walked in, as the door was open.

"What do you mean by eraser?" said Andema.

"Eraser bounces down the road," said Phonebooth, pointing at a pylon. She seemed to have entirely figured out the phrase 'what do you mean' in English. People certainly said it to her enough.

"Hi," said Ford.

"Ahhhhh!" screamed Phonebooth, "Fishing is not allowed!"

"The pencil takes a ride on the bicycle," said Ford reasonably, "There are no eggs."

"Free fish," said Phonebooth. She didn't seem to believe him.

"Andema," said Ford, "Will you…"

"No," said Andema, "If you go out with rebel scientist trash, you get boycotted. So…HA!" She turned away from Ford and returned to trying to understand Jubanese. Ford sighed again.

"Will you at least tell me where Malea is?" he said.

"Sick bay," said Andema.

"At least tell free food for Malea?" said Phonebooth in shock.

"Oh damn," said Ford, and left, for the sick bay.

Malea was using a pair of tweezers to work the bullet out of her foot. It was a painful process.

"Hello," said Ford, "Want to be my girlphriend again?"

"No," said Malea. She finally managed to remove the bullet, and placed it beside her.

"Why not?"

"Well, because Phred is adorable."

"I _know_ that," said Ford, "but…" He trailed off, seemed to think of something, then left. Malea shrugged, then began to cover her foot in regeneration cream.

Arthur fed his fish another chip. Ford was right, it did seem to enjoy them. He suddenly decided that now would be a good time to visit Trillian. Carefully unlocking his door, he walked out.

Several people tackled him, pinning him to the floor.

"Ow," said Arthur, "That was random."

"Not just me," said Random, "Way to accuse me."

"But you were one of the people…" said Arthur.

"Please, don't give me crap," said Random, "I had a perfectly valid reason."

"Which was…?"

"I don't want to talk about it, it's too personal."

"But how do I know it's valid, then?"

"I _asked_ you not to give me crap," said Random moodily.

"Okay…" said Arthur, "Who else jumped on me? Tell me why while I find out if anything's broken."

"I thought you were Ford," said Clap, sitting cross-legged beside him.

"Why would Ford be in my locked room," said Arthur, and instantly regretted asking.

"You never know," said Clap.

"Arthur with gum on paper," said Phonebooth, then slowly puzzled out a phrase in English, "I was saving you from Ford." She grinned, snakelike.

"Why?" said Arthur.

"Panicked squirrel!" said Phonebooth, forgetting to speak in English in her distress, "Ford bounces off sticky walls!"

"I do not!" said Ford.

"Dancing pigeons," said Phonebooth firmly, "Orange bug makes 'Please pass the salt'."

"That's it!" said Ford, finally offended, "_These trousers are too small!_" Phonebooth gasped, insulted, and stormed off.

"I understood little of that," said Arthur, "What about you Ford?"

"I speak Jubanese," said Ford.

"No, I know that," said Arthur, "I want to know why you tackled me."

"I just wanted a hug."

"Oh…"

"See?" said Clap, "My theory holds out."

"I asked Phred out, but he apparently likes Malea," said Ford, "Go figure."

"I have to get back to work," said Clap, and pied Ford and Random in the face.

"I think I'll go now…" said Arthur, standing up, "Clap, would you consider tackling others when they try to tackle me?"

"I'll consider it," said Clap, obviously not considering it at all. Arthur walked away, up to the control room.

"Improbability of 31,165,431 to 1 and rising," said Trillian.

"How are you doing?" said Arthur.

"Fine," said Trillian, "Improbability of 68,166,548 to 1."

"Isn't it dangerous to run the Improbability Drive when everyone isn't in the Improbability-proof control cabin?" said Arthur.

"It hasn't bothered me before," said Trillian.

"That's not what I meant, really," said Arthur.

"Nobody's died, have they," said Trillian, "It's totally harmless. Improbability of 94, 287,252 to 1 and rising."

"Not exactly," said Arthur, then decided to give up the argument. "So, is this boring?" he said, hoping to generate a conversation.

"It's mostly calming," said Trillian, "It cuts down on stress. Improbability of 4,481,986,789 to one and rising."

"Um, Trillian," said Arthur, "If Zaphod hadn't come to that party, would you have gone with me?"

"Maybe," said Trillian, "There's an enormous improbability in your room. You'd better check it out."

"Oh…" said Arthur, "I was just wondering, because, you see…"

"Or it might evolve into something worse," said Trillian.

"Yes, right…" said Arthur, sighing, and left for his room.

When he got to it, and tried to enter, he found that the door was locked. Arthur kicked the door in disgust.

"I used to be part of Frankie's entourage," said a passing dead man.

"Gah," said Arthur, pummelling the door to little effect.

"Do you want i…Arthur!" said Fenchurch, opening the door.

"Fenchurch!" said Arthur, "Why…what…?"

"I don't know," said Fenchurch. A few minutes went by.

"Fenchurch!" said Arthur.

"Do you want to come in?" said Fenchurch.

"Well, it _is_ actually my roo…I mea…I…yes."

Arthur went in.

"Are you tired?" said Ford. Clap pied him again.

"No, damnit! My eyes are cold blue slits! It's supposed to be menacing!"

"Because you look tired."

"I'm being actiony! You're really annoying me."

"Maybe you should get more rest," said Ford.

"Ahh! You're making me angry enough to squeeze your chicken."

"I don't have any chickens."

"Angry enough to squeeze your chickens if you had any," Clap amended.

"Not the chickens!"

"You know, Ford, it's times like these I'm reminded of my boot potting shed at home."

"It's only natural."

"What's a boot potting shed?" asked Random, still mopping pie off of her face.

"A shed where you pot boots," said Ford.

"And what does that have to do with squeezing chickens?"

"If you don't know, you'll never know," said Clap.

"I think you're insane," said Random.

"I had a bad experience as a teenager," said Clap, "So bad that I can't remember anything that happened before it."

"Ford?" came Trillian's voice over the intercom, "Can you check on Arthur? I sent him out to investigate a large improbability in his room, and he hasn't reported back. He won't even answer when I try to call him."

"**I'll** do it!" said Clap. She walked over to Arthur's room, opened the door, and looked in. Then, she closed the door and walked over to the speaker.

"It's fine," she said, "He's just having sex."

"Oh…" said Trillian.

"Woo!" said Ford, "Way to go Arthur! I almost thought he didn't have a sex life at all! He sure proved me wrong. I'd go and watch, except that he'd probably kick me out. Earth people are so weird."

"You're so… weirder," said Random.

"Your dad's having sex," said Ford matter-of-factly.

"Gggross," said Random. She ate some pie.

In some secluded room, Zaphod turned on his communicationary vid-screen.

"Hey baby," he said. The girl looking back was impressed by the amount of graham crackers he'd managed to shove up his noses.

Then Random happened. She turned it off.

"You stole my random event at the end of every story!" yelled Zaphod.

"You mean Random event," said Random.

"Arrrrgh!" said Zaphod.

He was not very happy.

THE END

_Look up a cation. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised._

_Ford putting fish with vinegar and chips in Arthur's ear came from the BBC HitchHiker's Guide website. There's a quiz, and one question says something like: What are Babel fish for? And Penny read two of the answers that said: "It goes well with chips and vinegar" and, "It translates languages", and she thought it said, "It translates well with chips and vinegar. Thus was born the mutated ideal for the Babel fish._

_Also, Penny was actually wearing that tank-top thing, same as Clap, and I said basically what Malea said. Except that I felt bad after, so I let her shoot me in the story._

_Random, when she pounces on Arthur, is a parody of one of my friends. Um, sorry one-of-my-friends. But you'll probably never read this anyway, so, neh. You really got on my nerves when you said that, and I think you deserve this lampooning, for it._

_So, here begins the series of stories where I thought emphasising Ford as bisexual was funny. You can read my thoughts on the subject in my LiveJournal, if you like. But, otherwise, all of you Ford/Arthur slashers can have fun, I guess. I don't agree with you, but I think Ford does._

_Penny, thank you forever for inventing the Jubanese. They're a licence to be wacky. Also, gggross either belongs to Penny, or her ex-boyfriend. Or he stole it from someone, I dunno._

_By the way, communicationary is SO a word, damn it!_

_Saith Rayse: I DID use the hints and I STILL can't beat it! And Ford was embarrassed because his group of rebels doesn't accept 'F's, only 'PH's. And the F was drawn with a large black marker, not an eggbeater. I hate to think how Clap would draw an F on his forehead with an eggbeater. Eugh. Ooh, are you actually going to Scotland? If so, you lucky duck! I've never even been out of North America. Meaning, I've only been around Canada, and a few trips to Disney World. Heck, I haven't even been to New York._

_Cap'n Scoff: Isn't having a werewolf as an alter ego sort of awkward? Don't angry villagers ever show up as your door with pitchforks, torches, and guns with silver bullets in them? Not to mention holy water. Canada IS a wonderful place. Why, only the other day, I was talking to Colin Mocherie AND Mike Myers, and we all agreed with you. Now if I can just get the Barenaked Ladies to stop inviting me to their crazy parties…Feel free to be a rebel scientist. Just be careful when you spraypaint SULPHUR on the walls. And for Murphy's sake, don't pour water on potassium blocks in crowded areas._

_Kyre-JMK-Storm Dragon: Wicked! I could never get my teacher to do it, because it was summer, or something. She did it for her previous class… Bah. I never really got to see fiery explosions._

_Guardian Demon: You rock my socks. Seriously. You know about Howl, and now Firefly! And…I probably couldn't do that crossover, no matter how much I love crossovers. I could NEVER get the Firefly crew to be in character. However, if I can do it as a role-play with Marion…I'll see. Marion is like the world's foremost expert on Firefly. By the way, have you seen Serenity?_

_Jimmy the Gothic Egg: Thanks muchly. You are very cool also._

_BeatlesLover: Fab, huh? Phab… The Phab Phour. Snerk. Wow, the fun. Um…None of them have F's in their names, so I can't have any more fun in that direction. And, yeah, the Mitsubishi Guts is real. It was off some website. That said, I have no idea how Arthur knows about it. And…wait… Does \m/ stand for devil-fingers, or whatever you call it? Well, I agree totally. These stories are definitely, um, the incarnation of Satan on the internet. Hooray for Murdoc!_

_DarkLightedAngel: Oh, THE BEGINNING. Such a funny way to end stories._

_nasamuffin: I agree with everything that you said, except for one thing. Believe, me, you are not the only Firefly geek in the world. Just read the review…page._

_LandUnderWave: Several reasons why you are awesome. 1. Your name DOES come from the Wee Free Men series by Terry Pratchett. 2. You like HitchHiker's Guide as evidenced by you reading fanfiction from it. 3. You like Tamora Pierce. 4. You listen to The Beatles. I can't believe I'm the first person to figure it out. I feel special. Thanks, Lily Wave._

_Lily Knotwise: I agree. And, yes! Woo! Coldplay concert! Yay! Maybe I'll have to make the Guide Gang go to one, just to recount the experience, I don't know. Yay, Coldplay!_

_MaidM: Oh, Jayne. And of course you can still quote Firefly. It's your job. You can also quote Buffy, Angel, Farscape, Lost, Doctor Who, and everything else you've memorised. I assume that means that I can also still name songs and the artist who performs them instantaneously. We all have our little skills we never lose. Yours is kinda more useful than mine is, though._

_Fellowship of the Band Geeks: I'm stuck after the Improbability Drive screws everything up, or something, and Arthur gets stuck in the dark, and then I can't figure out what to do._

_The best Christmas gift of all this year will be getting to see the first episode of the new season of Doctor Who._

_Doctor Who is like my HitchHiker's Guide replacement. I desperately want to find out which episodes were written by Douglas Adams._

_And, even though the new doctor will probably have a new catch phrase…_

_Fantastic!_


	27. Ford Becomes A Contortionist

Ford Becomes A Contortionist

One day, Ford Prefect decided to try some twisty moves.

"What _are_ you doing, Ford?" said Arthur.

"It's a traditional Betelguesian Folk Dance," said Ford.

"It looks uncomfortable," said Arthur, "And what are you doing with the towel?"

"It's TRADITIONAL," said Ford pointedly.

"Where are your regular clothes, anyway?" said Arthur.

"Oh, shut up," said Ford, and went to find his satchel.

THE END

_THIS one came from a H2G2 fanart I found once. It was hilariously inaccurate, or at least in my and also Penny's opinions. Everything Arthur says is true._

_Sorry for the HUUUUUUGE delay. It was monstrosseriffical. Which is a word now. Because it is._

_I have so much procrastination surrounding me that I'm drowning in it and currently need to patch up my flailing math skills. Oh, that I had not made fun of mathematics. But I'll try to type you up my next one really soon._

_Also, I can't answer questions here anymore because it's a rule, so I will be answering them the proper way with the handy new thingy. However, I strongly urge those who do not have an account to get one, so that I can still talk to them (This means YOU, BeatlesLover/LandUnderWave!)._

_On an obviously completely unrelated note, my last story had a sort of F/A slash, it's true, but it's my particular brand of it where Ford only hits on Arthur when desperate because he knows that Arthur is so straight, he can hardly bend his knees (Badum ching)._

_Also, Fenchurch was there because I feel sorry for her as she is so very often excluded. And I like her, dammit._

_I think I've created a monster with the rebel scientist stuff because I seem to be getting a lot of 'f's into 'ph's in my reviews. By all means, keep doing it! If I can classify you guys as a fan base, it can be our secret little quirk. Except that I haven't been doing it myself. Er…_

_Look, ma, I'm using my old title format!_


	28. Zaphod Has Difficulty Blaspheming

_I apologise in advance. Really, I do. If you are one to be easily offended by mild slurs against religion (ie. Iput God in as a character) then I'm sorry. Skip this one. Stop reading now._

_If not, then read on._

_Don't say I didn't warn you._

Zaphod Has Difficulty Blaspheming

One day, Zaphod was making fun of Jesus. He wasn't doing a very good job because first thing, he kept calling him Gebus, and second thing, he knew nothing about Christianity anyway.

"Haha, Gebus. You're totally uncool," he said, "And so is this God guy you probably hang out with. Maybe. All you Earth-guys are SOOO dumb."

"That's sort of blasphemous and probably not a good idea," said Arthur, "If God does exist, he's going to smite you."

"Like I care," said Zaphod, "I can withstand any kind of weak smiting from this Gebus-guy."

"No, it would be God doing the smiting," said Arthur, "And it's Jesus."

"Yeah, whatever," said Zaphod, "Gebus! You're such a hippy dude."

"Jesus. And aren't you one too?"

"Sure, but Gebus—"

"Jesus "

"—actually cares."

"I give up," said Arthur, and left. Zaphod laughed raucously and tried to think of some other insults. He was really very bored.

"Hello," said Paz, "I have no idea who you are, but I suppose I'll help you insult higher powers. It's almost my job."

"I don't need any help," said Zaphod, "I never need help with _anything_."

"I won't help you, then," said Paz, "I'll just also insult."

"I **said** I don't need help."

"I'm NOT."

"I'm going to ignore you," Zaphod warned him.

"Hey Jesus, your Bible is stupid and you smell like fresh yams," said Paz. Zaphod was rather impressed but he didn't want to say so.

"Yeah, Gebus," said Zaphod, "You sound like a gassy infection."

"What does that even mean?" said Arthur who had come back because he couldn't help it. Both of the others ignored him.

"Hey, are we insulting someone?" said Ford, walking in, "Who is it?"

"Gebus," said Zaphod.

"Isn't that supposed to be Jesus?" said Ford.

"No," said Zaphod.

"Yes," said Arthur.

"All right, then," said Ford.

"You haven't cleaned your ears for several days," said Paz, "I bet you can't even play the clarinet."

"This guy is good," said Zaphod to Ford.

"At what?"

"I can't believe you're doing this," said Arthur. He was ignored some more.

"Well, I can't," he muttered awkwardly.

"That's enough for today," said Paz, "Beam me up, Darko." Nothing happened.

"Darko?" said Paz. Darko walked into the room, muttered something about something technological, turned on a flashlight, turned it off, and pulled Paz out of the room.

"He was only here for a short time," said Zaphod, "But I shall remember his teachings." Jesus walked into the room.

"Yeah, I don't appreciate those insults," he said.

"Why not?" said Ford skeptically.

"Actually, that's a good question…" said Jesus, "They weren't really that good. Oh well. God's going to smite you now, I guess."

"I _told_ you guys," said Arthur, and ran away. God appeared.

"This Is Rather Embarrassing," He said, "I've Lost My Smiting Equipment. You'll Have To Live With It." He shrugged, walked up to Zaphod, and _PUNCHED HIM IN THE GUT!_

"Ow," said Zaphod. Ford waited a bit, then seeing that no-one else was going to say it, said, "Oh no! Not another gut full of fist!"

God and Zaphod looked at him,

"I Don't Get It," said God.

"Neither do I," said Zaphod, "You wanna go out for a drink?"

"Yeah, alright," said God. They went to have a drink. Ford came too because he thought it would be a good opportunity to get drunk.

Arthur came back, noticed that they were gone, and felt a little bad because everyone was dead.

So he made himself a cup of tea.

THE END

_I have never been more nervous posting anything. Not for the one with sex in it, not for the one with cannibalism and not even for the other religion one. THIS is the doozy. Er, I'm sorry if I've offended anyone but this is just what I like to do. Make fun of things. And seeing as I'm agnostic-verging-on-atheism, religion, (namely the Christian one because that's what my family sort of is) is just an available target. Actually, THIS is the reason updating has taken so long. I'm so paranoid that I copied out all of my reviews because I didn't want to lose them._

_That said, Paz is a guy at my school who wrote a brilliant soap-opera called The First Family which concerns the life issues of God, Mary, and Jesus. I think it's safe to say that it's WAAAAY more blasphemous than this is._

_Thanks a LOT, Paz, for inspiring me. Jeez. Trying to get me banned off this site or something?_

_If one was trying to find the fanart of Ford doing strange things with a towel, one might search for Ford Prefect or Hitchhiker's Guide in Google Image. Just sayin'. Also, I don't hate French, I just think the Canadian school system for teaching it is shoddy._

_I think if you managed to divide by zero, the universe would actually explode._

_Incidentally, I've read all five books each at least four times._

_And the first one twice that._

_Is that perusing? I'm not sure._


	29. Too Many Characters

In Which There Are Far Too Many Characters

"It's been doing it for hours," said Phelix.

"What has?" said Malea.

"The HAIR."

Trevor's hair grew really long. Then it all disappeared. He didn't say anything.

Meanwhile, Clap was somewhere dark and ominous. She opened the door of the cage and stood back.

"Now live!" she cried dramatically, "Live and thrive!"

The watermelon yoghurt was loose on the ship.

"Really?"

"Yes!" said Arthur, "It wasn't even cheese at all! And I had eaten half of it!"

"How horrible!" said Fenchurch. She was sitting on Arthur's lap.

"Do you know what?" said Arthur.

"What?"

"You are altogether the most wonderful person I have ever known."

"Well, the same to you, then."

With a 'POOF', Fenchurch conveniently disappeared.

"Oh bugger," said Arthur.

"The…hair," said Phelix and was promptly eaten by the watermelon yoghurt.

"How did that work out?" said Malea. The yoghurt looked at her threateningly and she ran away.

"So what you're saying is that there's a horrible watermelon yoghurt loose on the ship," said Zaphod.

"That eats people," said Hilary.

"Right," said Zaphod, "And you are here why?"

"Does it matter!" said Hilary, "All of your lives are in peril!"

"Phelix was just eaten by a watermelon yoghurt!" said Malea frantically.

"Do I know you?" said Hilary. Malea looked at Hilary. She was very tall with glasses and brown hair.

"I don't think so."

"Oh well."

"We must hunt it down and kill it!" cried Joseph enthusiastically. He was extremely skinny and also sported glasses.

"It's a yoghurt," Hilary pointed out.

"When did you get here?" said Malea to Joseph. He ignored her to answer Hilary.

"We'll eat it, then."

"You can't EAT it," said Hilary, "It's too ravenous."

"Look, it's pretty easy," said Zaphod. "We take an antimatter gun from Clap, blast that thing to mustard, and still have time to go adventuring or something."

"Since when will Clap let you steal things from her?" said Malea.

"Shut up and go away," said Zaphod.

"Dung Brians," said Malea rudely.

"No Way," said Zaphod, "If my name was Brian, I would still be devastatingly cool."

"Yeah, whatever," said Malea, "I was tired of being sensible anyways. Where's Andema when you need her?"

Andema, in fact, was with Phonebooth. She had explained to Phonebooth that most of the deadliest Jubanese insults translated into harmless English phrases. They were both having an enormous amount of fun taunting Phred who had no idea what was going on and was beginning to sprout spikes.

"I would like those socks in a bigger size, please," said Andema. Phonebooth gasped, then laughed.

"I don't understand!" said Phred frantically, "Could you speak in English? Or at least Scordanian?"

"I must say, your hat looks quite nice," said Phonebooth, grinning, "Where did you get it?"

"I'm not _wearing_ a hat!" said Phred, exasperated. Both Andema and Phonebooth burst into laughter.

The watermelon yoghurt came up and ate him.

"Oh bother," said Andema.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready," said Zaphod.

"Phonebooth's hiding in her room and won't come out because a watermelon yoghurt ate Phred," panted Andema, running into the room.

"Noooooo!" cried Malea dramatically.

"I thought you said it _couldn't_ be eaten," said Joseph.

"You ate our private joke!" said Hilary, glaring at Arthur.

THE END

_Trevor is a kid at my school. Same goes for Hilary and Joseph but THEY are my friends. They invented the watermelon yoghurt and may lay all claim to it. I also think it's sort of funny that Arthur indirectly ate two people. I got rid of the Rebel Scientists because it's hard enough writing with just the characters I have. However, they will show up in another, completely different story._

_Next, Arthur and Fenchurch bit. I got rid of Fenchurch because sensible people just aren't that interesting to write, for me. I tried really hard to make their conversation a bit of a parody of the way they talk to each other throughout the fourth book. Also, I always thought Arthur was just a little bit too casual about Fenchurch's disappearance in the fifth. So that's here too._

_Oh, might as well take this opportunity to say that Douglas Adams still owns the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy._

_Jeez, you know already. But I have to do a disclaimer every so often or people will become suspicious._

_Oooooh, it's a conspiracy…_


End file.
